Gavotte
by arctapus
Summary: This is a side story to my Fortunate Son arc. This is a story about the dance between Glorfindel and Erestor and their journey to Rohan, Gondor and back. Humor and banter galore between my favorite First Age Old Agers.


=0=

Title: Gavotte  
Author: Arctapus/HBoy  
Disclaimer: Tolkien, yes. HB, not likely. Even in dreams. :)  
Summary: A request. G The Dance of ... Something. Between  
friends. ;) This story has evolved. It's a part of Fortunate Son and Son Rise, that series. I think its also being influenced by current events. This is about 500 years after the Fortunate Son story began. Its a sidebar to the series.

Codes: LOTR, R (M) slash, GL/Er

=0=

Late at night, a gallery chamber, Imladris ...

He sat on an overstuffed chair, feet propped on the low table before him, a glass of wine in his hand. He stared at the wall tapestry, the silence enveloping him with a comforting cocoon of anonymity and relaxation. It was a good thing for he was feeling slightly out of sorts. The day had been fine, nothing out of the ordinary interrupting the general prevailing mood of tranquility and homeliness. He had undertaken his chores, those self-claimed tasks that filled him with contentment and even though this was all true he was still out of sorts. Ill settled.

Moody.

Few would have felt him capable of such a thing, the usual disposition of the tall blond upbeat and bemused. But sometimes for reasons he didn't understand a darkness would grip him and little was there for him to do but wait it out. He shifted, settling more comfortably in the confines of the chair, his sigh the only sound in the room.

Standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded before him, Erestor watched Glorfindel muse on his own frailties. They were friends over many generations of men and even though they were polar opposites, they were very much content in the company of the other. Glorfindel was light to his dark, galloping amusement to his own tawny sardonic elasticity and they were humorous together, each knowing the other very well. He liked Glorfindel even as he loved him, the ancient practice of intense good friendship between Elvish men living on in the closeness of the two.

Glorfindel's lanky frame filled the chair, his long legs crossed at the ankles. He held the glass of red wine in his hands, his fingers tracing the curve of the glass' lip with slow circular movements. Thick blond hair obscured Glorfindel's face making his mood hard to gauge. Shifting in his position, Erestor cleared his throat. Blue-gray eyes peered his direction taking him in and Erestor waited expecting invitation.

"You're uncannily quiet," Glorfindel murmured watching as Erestor entered and took a seat across from him. Settling in, dark eyes considered him measuring Glorfindel's mood as he would household wares. "And?"

"And ... it would seem you are in one of your moods, my friend," Erestor replied crossing his arms comfortably even as he put his own feet on the table. "Am I to presume you will sulk for a day or two and then become your usual abominable self once more?"

Glorfindel smirked nodding. "I suppose that is the pattern thus far."

Erestor sniffed, eyeing him with that piercing and knowing gaze that put younger less seasoned elves into fits of fear and loathing. It was arch, aristocratic and used to full effect. "You are becoming predictable, my friend. I find that hard to bear. Your one real charm is your uncanny ability to be ten different people at the same time."

Glorfindel snorted and smiled. "You have a way with words that does you honor."

"I do, don't I," Erestor replied a smirk on his own handsome face. "Tell me Glorfindel, what might it take to ... perk you up?"

"I don't know," Glorfindel demurred, already rising from his funk. "A little wine. A little conversation ... a little company between the sheets perhaps."

Erestor smiled in spite of himself. "Ah, sexual healing."

"Is there any better kind?"

"And who would you nominate to help you through your torturous convalescence?" Erestor asked fixing Glorfindel with a jaundiced eye.

"I was thinking of someone tall and slender. Someone with nice bones but not too much meat on them. Someone dark haired with smoldering eyes." Glorfindel smiled a roguish smile. "Know anyone who fits the bill?"

Erestor held Glorfindel's gaze and then smirked. "Don't know a soul."

Glorfindel sighed sadly, glancing sadly away. "Pity. I'm said to be a real catch."

"By who?" Erestor asked warming to the banter between them.

"Whom. By whom," Glorfindel interjected.

Erestor sniffed glacially and glanced away. "If you are going to correct my grammar then you will have to have someone else pimp for you and not me."

Glorfindel snorted and chuckled aloud. "Pimp? For me? Since when do I need help to find a bed partner?"

"You mentioned that you have specific tastes and it appears that you are hardly in the position by your own acknowledgement to do anything but make a fool of yourself should you pursue a bed partner without assistance. So it would seem that you have brought your case to me as everyone in this place does sooner or later and placed it before me to resolve."

"You would find me a bed partner to my specific conditions?" Glorfindel asked fascinated by the figure before him. "Why, Erestor, I am touched."

Erestor grinned in spite of himself. "You will be more than touched. You must promise me something in future of my own choosing should I avail you of my considerable skills at persuasion to get someone to lie down with you."

Glorfindel laughed setting his glass down on the table before them. He leaned back settling as he focused himself on the debate forming between them. Erestor watched him noting his handsome face and long silken curtain of golden hair. He was relieved that Glorfindel was rallying and wondered where the conversation would go. He didn't care, really. He was prepared to follow it wherever it went. Such was the way the evening  
was unfolding.

"I have very exacting standards, Erestor, my friend. I would not just take any long legged dark-eyed beauty."

"Of course," Erestor nodded his expression mock serious. "Give me your specifics and I will consider my inventory and chose the appropriate individual to match your tastes."

"You would?" Glorfindel asked.

"I would," Erestor replied.

Glorfindel smiled and considered his adversary for a moment. Handsome was a word that didn't apply to Erestor. He was that and more, a strange blend of conventional and unconventional beauty. Exotic was a word that suited him, this tall and enigmatic figure before him. Black was his hair and dark his eyes, eyes that missed nothing and saw more than what appeared to most others.

"I prefer something very tall, slender, yet strong. Someone with refinement yet sturdy enough to be adventurous in bed. I like dark hair and dark eyes, wise eyes, Erestor, eyes that have seen much but still hold to the light."

Erestor nodded hiding his growing amusement. "Go on."

"I prefer an equal, someone strong enough to make me work for their body. Someone who will expect to get as much as they give and be willing to take it without hesitation."

"You have a gender preference?" he asked knowing good and well that at their age and unmarried station in life, gender was not a consideration. It didn't matter a whit.

"I prefer a man, Erestor. I want a man to challenge me, to make me rise to the occasion." Glorfindel rose and took his glass walking behind Erestor to fill it. "Do you wish wine?" he asked smiling slightly at Erestor's negative nod. "I would like someone to make me work for their submission."

"Interesting. A dominating submissive. I'm not sure I have one of those in stock. I would have to check with Lothlorien. However, you might have to settle for a blond."

Glorfindel chuckled and walked to his chair sitting down once more. "Haldir, perhaps?"

"The northern border guard?" Erestor asked. "He-with-two- brothers-Haldir?"

"Yes. That one."

Erestor grinned and smirked at his friend. "I suppose you are going to tell me that you slept with him."

Glorfindel grinned and nodded. "Yes actually. There isn't much to do at night on a flet in the middle of a forest. I am surprised that you are surprised."

"I am not surprised. If you told me you had sex on the back of a donkey on the road to perdition I would nod and say, 'Yes. That sounds like him, the magnificent bastard.'"

Glorfindel snorted and laughed setting down his glass. He folded his hands before him meeting Erestor's cool gaze with his own amused one. "You didn't ask me how Haldir was."

"You plan to tell me? What sort of lover are you?" Erestor asked, mock disapprovingly.

"The best kind I am told," Glorfindel said preening slightly. "Haldir has no complaints. I will say that he's rather beautiful, that one. I enjoyed myself immensely and hope to reprise our relationship the next time I pass through. His brothers remind me of you with blond hair. I was considering how much trouble it would be to have all three of them."

"At the same time?" Erestor asked smirking.

"I never thought of that. Sounds like fun," Glorfindel replied. "Have you ever had more than one lover at a time or does the idea of group sex bother you, Erestor, Seneschal to the Great Lord of Imladris?"

"It bothers me less I must say than the idea of you having your way with a Lothlorien border guard in a treetop on the edge of the civilized world. You impress me with your versatility, my dear friend."

"I do?" Glorfindel asked. "You have no idea how versatile I can be."

It was silent a moment and then Erestor smiled. "The brothers. They look like me?"

"Yes," Glorfindel replied smiling. "Tall, willowy but not feminine, muscular. They look like they could handle a lot. If you know what I mean."

"You must tell me what it's like next time you go there. I, myself being less the exhibitionist would be less inclined to grope with a group if you get my meaning."

Glorfindel snorted and smiled. "You have no idea what fun lies on the fringes of your rock-bound ethics, my dear friend. Titillations galore await the Elf that can let down their corset and relax for a short while wrapped in the arms of someone who wants them."

"Are you speaking rhetorically or do you have a specific proposal in mind?" Erestor said smirking at the languid figure lounging before him.

"Both. Neither. Why? Do you want to find out what Haldir knows?"

Erestor snickered and leaned forward meeting Glorfindel's eye with a measure look. "Are you propositioning me?"

"Yes," Glorfindel said holding Erestor's fabled gaze.

They sat still a moment and then both leaned back sighing in unison.

"I would hate to disturb a good friendship with complications of sexual frolicking and much mutual whisperings of endearments that in the light of day and in a much more sober mood will bring a change in our dealings with each other."

Glorfindel nodded. "Then you want to sleep with me?"

"In the worst way," Erestor replied sighing.

Glorfindel rose and held out his hand pulling Erestor to his feet. "Come with me, my prince and let me make mad passionate love to you."

"We will regret this greatly, I fear," Erestor said picking up a bottle of wine and another glass. "Bring your glass. I feel this may take more than the usual lubrication to render done."

Glorfindel snorted and followed his friend, winding through the darkened house and up the winding stairs to pause before the seneschal's door. Erestor turned and looked at Glorfindel measuring him with a stern gaze. "No one must know upon pain of a second death."

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "May Mandos keep me next time if I breathe a word."

Erestor smiled and opened the door, the two entering. The door closed and would not open until the first light of dawn streaked the sky.

******************Later that next day in the stables ...

Glorfindel brushed the mare noting the improved condition of her coat. He yawned noting the weariness that enfeebled him from the night before. He considered the moment of truth between them ...

"Surely you don't mean it?" Glorfindel asked grinning broadly as he stared at the tense figure before him.

"Of course I do. Turn around and wait," Erestor said frowning at his partner and soon-to-be-lover. "I have not passed the flames of death nor have I flaunted myself in the tree tops. If you wish to fondle my private parts you will turn around and humor me."

Glorfindel grinned and turned around, listening to the sound of clothing hitting the floor. It was silent a moment, then the sound of hair clips hitting the dresser made him aware that Erestor was going all out. The rustle of covers indicated that all was well and he turned noting Erestor sitting up in bed swathed with sheets from the waist down.

"Ah, at last," Glorfindel said tugging his tunic off over his head. Tossing it away, he reached down and tugged off one boot and then another, dropping them and their sock partners into a corner. He turned and stared at Erestor, grinning broadly. "I have waited for this moment a long time, Erestor. I cannot wait to taste your body. I intend to lick you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes."

"You are disgusting," Erestor said shifting in bed. "If you want to sleep with me, keep the description to a minimum."

"Sorry," Glorfindel said, tugging off his trousers and undergarments. He stood naked idly stroking himself as he considered the festivities to come. Erestor stared at Glorfindel's hand stroking the long hard shaft there in and then slid down, drawing the sheets to his neck. Glorfindel grinned. "You aren't getting second thoughts are you?"

"Yes," Erestor said watching as the tall pale blond crawled over him and climbed into the bed as well. "Maybe."

"Too late," Glorfindel said pulling Erestor toward him. He kissed him, pressing his tongue into Erestor's mouth, sucking and licking him as he melted under the influence of his own lust. Erestor lay beside him as tense as a virgin bride on her wedding night. Glorfindel broke the kiss and looked up and down the tense body of his lover. "You are not a virgin are you, Erestor?" he asked doubt creeping into his voice.

"Of course not," Erestor barked shifting uneasily.

"You've never been with a man?" Glorfindel asked frown lines growing on his forehead.

"No," Erestor replied sighing. "Forgive me my sheltered life," he hissed with embarrassment.

"Sheltered? I wouldn't say that but this changes everything."

"How so?" Erestor asked swallowing nervously.

"I won't be able to ride you."

Erestor's nose curled. "I hate even the idea of that visual."

"You do not know what you are missing," Glorfindel said pressing his mouth against Erestor's. He moved to lay on the tense body next to him parting Erestor's legs with his own knee. Settling, he threaded his fingers through dark silken hair as his lips had their way with the slowly thawing virgin beneath him. He paused panting with the effort to control the power of his own lust. "How does that feel?"

"Good," Erestor said his hands sliding up and down the back of his lover. "You tongue is prehensile."

"Haldir thinks so too," Glorfindel said grimacing goodnaturedly at the tug of his hair in the fist of his lover. "Are you relaxing yet? I would like to know before I commence to show you the technique for which I am quite famous."

"Technique?" Erestor asked concern in his voice. "You won't ... you know ..."

"What?" Glorfindel said sucking on Erestor's neck, red marks trailing in the wake.

For a moment it was silent and then Glorfindel looked at him noting real unease in the dark eyes, eyes that normally could crack paint off the wall with a simple stony glance. "What?" Glorfindel asked his voice soft even as his need loomed between them pressing against Erestor's less enthusiastic erection like an invading army. "Tell me."

"You won't ... do that thing." Erestor closed his eyes, his self-disgust evident. "I am old. Why can not I just say it?"

"Then do," Glorfindel said kissing Erestor's full red lips gently.

"You will not take me like a woman tonight. I don't know that I can handle that just yet," he whispered his expression more serious than Glorfindel could remember seeing outside of catastrophe and war.

He sighed kissing Erestor once more. "No. I would not do that. Tonight."

Erestor relaxed, smiling ruefully. "You must think me an awful rube."

"No," Glorfindel replied, kissing Erestor, his tongue drawing a line across his full lips. "This is your first time with a man and your first time with me. I am grateful, Erestor. Now may I take you?"

"Yes," the Elf replied smiling.

For the next several minutes, there were no more words as Glorfindel surged against the body of his lover. Grunts and exhalations of surprise and rising lust slipped from Erestor's lips when they weren't being devoured by his lover. For the longest time he could remember Glorfindel surged against him and then he was too preoccupied with the fireworks in the back of his head to be aware of more.

When it was all over, they lay together, a tangle of arms and legs and hair. Erestor didn't say much lying in the arms of his lover and Glorfindel held him, his mood considerably lightened. By the time dawn came, Erestor was gone, off to make the house move through the rhythms of the day.

****************************** ...

He stood in the stall rubbing down the mare when he became aware of another nearby. Looking up, he met the dark eyes of his friend and companion and he paused, smiling at the slightly reticent gaze of Erestor. "How do you feel today?" Glorfindel asked.

"I was going to ask you that myself," Erestor remarked leaning his arms on the gate of the stall.

"Good," Glorfindel replied patting the mare. "I feel good. Thank you, Erestor."

Erestor nodded and as he entered the stall they heard restive hooves and the sound of movement. Turning, they peered over the bars into the stall next door. A stallion had moved on the mare in the stall with him, rising up and covering her with his great body. Clasping her with his legs, he grunted as he took her, moving against her in the age-old rhythm of procreative need.

Glorfindel smirked and peered at his partner. Erestor's face was coloring with embarrassment as they stood watching. With a hiss of breath, the horse slipped off sniffing and nudging the mare with his nose. Erestor turned, shaking his head even as he gathered his wits. Glorfindel stared at him, a big grin on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked watching as the Elf tugged at his sleeves.

Cool eyes greeted him as the usual glacial expression of nonchalance took over once more. "And why should I be otherwise? It's not as if I have never seen that before."

"Good," Glorfindel said picking up his brush. "Then you won't mind if we do a little gallop of our own tonight."

Erestor snorted and glanced at him as he walked back out of the stall. "You would like that wouldn't you."

Glorfindel turned and closed the distance between them, his eyes narrowing in lust as he brushed his lips against Erestor's. "You have no idea," he said quietly. Erestor stepped back and stared at him a moment smirking slightly as he did. "I'm not your filly," he said turning and walking toward the door.

Glorfindel smiled and watched him go, turning to his mare when the other rounded the corner and disappeared from view. He began to brush the rounded side of the horse, strong strokes smoothing away dirt and grime. As he did, he considered the coming night's festivities. "We'll see," Glorfindel whispered his smile growing broader. "We'll see."

******************In the house, near the kitchen ...

"What brings a smile to your lips, Erestor?"

He turned and looked into the dark eyes of his lord and great friend, Elrond of Imladris. Shaking his head with a sigh, he turned and joined him as he walked up the stairs to the library. "Nothing, my lord," he said noncommittally. "I was just thinking of taking up riding."

"Good," Elrond said, his smile genuine. "You need to get out more. A little posting around is good for the body and soul."

Erestor chuckled softly, nodding in agreement with his friend. "I'm glad you see it my way."

They continued upward until they disappeared from view and the house settled into silence behind them.

=0=

Six months later, nearing the city of Caras Galadhon ...

They swayed in the saddle, the two of them and a couple of soldiers for security making their way to the great city of Celeborn and Galadriel. They were on their way there and then they would continue to Edoras and Minas Tirith taking the business of their lord to those he needed to contact.

Glorfindel smiled, considering the past few days of ruffled silence from Erestor, the tall taciturn figure giving him a stony cold shoulder since leaving Rivendell several days before. He was clearly making some kind of personal point and Glorfindel endured it with good humor.

The day had begun rather promisingly, Glorfindel getting the drop on Erestor in the cellar where he was checking the great barrels of wine and other spirits that they kept in the dark and seldom visited corner of the great house. He watched as Erestor tapped the great kegs, listening with the ear of a connoisseur to the echoes of the contents. By the time he had nearly reached the end of the long row Glorfindel had crept up behind him and waited, every inch of his being on the prowl.

Erestor stood back up listening to the echo when he found himself sprawling over the top of the great barrel face down, his feet dangling. Gasping with surprise, he glanced over his shoulder rage informing his expression. "Glorfindel!"

Glorfindel smirked pressing his partner down as he vainly struggled to get to his feet. Dangling, gripped smugly in Glorfindel's hands, Erestor was caught fast. "My, my, Erestor. You do appear to be slipping. There was a time when no one could catch you flat like this."

Erestor relaxed, a glacial expression forming on his face. "Have you had your fun yet?"

"No," Glorfindel said simply leaning against Erestor's backside casually. Grinning, he sighed. "You look so good this way. I am not sure but I am becoming very enamored of your backside."

"I am working," Erestor said quietly as if he were talking to a mentally defective child. "You must put me down."

Glorfindel snickered and massaged Erestor's back, his hands sliding down to rest on the well-developed backside of his partner. "You have a nice bottom."

"If you ever want to see it again in the flesh, then put me down."

Glorfindel sighed exaggeratedly and complied, the enraged seneschal turning and tugging his clothing into place. He fixed Glorfindel with a furious stare. "You are impossible. No one is supposed to know about this. I do *not* do exhibitions."

"You are the impossible one, my friend, if you think that no one knows about this. As for the exhibitions, they might be a nice counterpoint to dark evenings in winter when charades are not enough."

Erestor shook his head, moving past his lover with exaggerated huffiness. "You are hopeless."

"Perhaps," Glorfindel said following. "My needs are just many and varied. Have you never wanted to make love in a public place? Does the prospect of possibly being seen not titillate you just a little?"

Erestor stopped, turning with intensity. Stepping toward his partner, he raised a finger to his face. "Never. Not ever. No. I will never. You cannot expect it so do not ask. Are there any questions?"

Glorfindel grinned and snickered. "I'll take that as a no."

"Take it as you will, Glorfindel. My escapades with you are for no one else's eyes. I am a ... a dignified personage and will not lower myself to the gutter just to ... to titillate your perverse nature."

"I love the prissy side of you, Erestor. You are the most complicated Elf I know."

Erestor stared at him, sighing. "I think you are a flame, Glorfindel. If I do not take care, I will be burned."

"You think I would hurt you?" Glorfindel asked moving closer.

"I think I am not wedded for a reason," Erestor replied. "It would do you well to burn your exhibitionist candle in the heat of someone else's lower standards."

"Are you advocating infidelity?" Glorfindel asked surprised.

"We are not pledged to each other," Erestor mused. Dark eyes flicked toward the figure before him. "What is to keep you from renewing your liaison with Haldir when we go to Lorien this week?"

"Your disapproval?" Glorfindel replied helpfully.

"What makes you think you would have it? What makes you think you would need it?" Erestor said moving as close to Glorfindel as he dared. He saw the surprise and challenge in the other's eyes and smiled. "What makes you think it would bother me?"

"It would not be a bother to you?" Glorfindel asked scanning Erestor's face for a clue.

Erestor shrugged, a smug look of triumph on his face. "You figure it out, my friend. I have things to do."

With that, he turned and walked out of the cellar climbing the steps with a grin on his face. "Round one to me," he whispered walking out into the house once more.

Glorfindel watched him go, noting with pleasure the sway of his ass up the stairs. Then he sighed, wondering what kind of a gauntlet was just thrown down before him. One had been he knew, but what it meant overtly he could not guess. A slow grin spread on his face as he climbed the stairs once more content for the moment to go about his business. Things would become clearer in Lothlorien he hazarded. Much more clear indeed.

**********Entering the Great Wood…

They cleared the border guard, Glorfindel searching the treetops for his former companion of the night. Haldir was not to be seen nor were his two tall brothers. Perhaps they were not on duty for now. It would add something to the journey this time to have Erestor on one side and Haldir on the other, both of them demanding things from him that would have to be pitched against his well-developed conscience. He considered the last time they were together here in the Golden Wood.

They had met at a party, Glorfindel appearing at the site of a small celebration, the sound of music drawing him. Voices were singing everywhere around him and he had followed them mesmerized by their soaring beauty like unto the Ainur, singing old songs from the days of his youth. It brought memories to him of two lifetimes, of days lived in the true Elven way, something that Caras Galadhon tried to preserve within its lovely confines.

He had blended in, his coloration the dominant theme of many of the Elves who lived in the city. Several were sitting on a tree root sipping wine from a bottle. They were laughing and talking together, more than a little way up the road to drunkenness. Listening to a young girl sing, he noticed that they were looking at him whispering together and smiling. He nodded and rose, slipping out afraid that he had intruded on a private family fathering.

The river beckoned and he walked to it stopping and staring at the silver reflection of the moon on its rippling surface. It was a moment or two before he noticed someone behind him and as he turned espied one of the blond Elves had followed him from the party. Nodding, he stood waiting, the Elf closing the distance between them. He held out a wine bottle and Glorfindel took a drink, handing it back to the sloe-eyed and slightly flushed figure before him. "I saw you ride in. You are from Rivendell."

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "I did not see you."

"I was much above you," he said pointing upward in the direction of the sky. "I was the captain of the guard." He grinned moving closer. "I saw you very well. You are very noticeable. Since you were expected, you did not need my inspection to enter the city. Did I tell you how much I admire the great lord's valley?"

Glorfindel grinned and shook his head. "And you are?" he asked moving to sit on a stone beside the tall and well-built youngster, who teetered a bit as he sat down.

"Haldir," he said handing the bottle back to Glorfindel. "I know who you are," he said nodding.

"Tell me then," Glorfindel said smiling as the younger Elf leaned against his shoulder.

"You came from Gondolin. I think," Haldir said yawning deeply. "You were the one who killed a balrog. I know this."

Glorfindel smiled and shifted, slipping his arm around the clearly drunk youngster. "You know a lot but you do not seem to know when to stop drinking."

"It is the day of my brother's birth," Haldir said snuggling his head against Glorfindel's neck. He smiled. "You smell good."

"You do too," Glorfindel replied shifting once more to settle the young Elf more firmly.

For a moment, it was silent and then the Elf sat up rising on unsteady legs. He held out his hand and gripped Glorfindel's arm tugging on him as he swayed. "Come with me. You will not regret it."

Glorfindel rose and followed, his hand gripped by Haldir and together they walked through the city climbing a staircase that led upward into the darkness. Round and round they wound until they came to a platform that formed a residence. Entering, they walked through the darkness until they came to a backroom, light filtering through the pale glass of a round window the only illumination.

Haldir stopped and turned, slipping his arms around Glorfindel's shoulders as he moved forward into his body. His mouth pressed against Glorfindel's, the softness of his lips enlivened by the taste of wine. Haldir burped, smiling dreamily at Glorfindel as  
the older Elf snorted in bemusement.

"Sorry," Haldir said leaning once more into the older Elf. He kissed Glorfindel sloppily chuckling as he did. "I am so drunk."

"You?" Glorfindel replied gripping Haldir's muscular ass in his hands. "You could have fooled me."

Haldir's head fell back, a fat chuckle filling the room. He gazed at Glorfindel, smiling. "You are quite beautiful. I noticed that right away."

"Perception is a good thing."

Haldir stepped back and tugged at his belt, finally casting it aside. He tugged at his tunic pulling it over his head. His pale body gleamed in the weak light from the window, shadows playing across his well-made chest and the contours of his smiling face. "I usually have more finesse," he said sitting heavily on his bed. He tugged at a boot, giving way to Glorfindel as the elder Elf moved forward to lend a hand. Off it came, then the other joining his tunic on the floor. He lie back rubbing his chest as he gathered is scattered wits together. "You are very beautiful," he half cooed to himself sitting up heavily and staring at Glorfindel who was standing before him. Reaching out, he tugged at Glorfindel's belt. "You have too many clothes on for me to do all the little things I want to do to you."

Glorfindel chuckled as he freed himself from Haldir, moving backward to goodnaturedly remove his shirt. Haldir watched him, his eyes never leaving the smooth and well-muscled chest of his newest best friend. "You have a great chest. I want to lick it for a while. Do you mind if I do that?"

Glorfindel snorted and nodded. "No. Please by all means make yourself at home."

Haldir rose and moved closer enveloping himself around Glorfindel. "I want to lick a lot of things, you know. Everything that you have. I want to look at every square inch of you before I do something we both will not regret. I assure you."

Glorfindel slid his hands into Haldir's trousers gripping the cool flesh of his ass tightly. Haldir smothered him, kissing him with an intensity only the truly drunk can manage. He pressed against Glorfindel, endangering them both with his enthusiasm so Glorfindel turned and they both fell to the bed bouncing for a moment as Haldir laughed. He lay for a moment, stilled and then he climbed on top straddling Glorfindel and peering down at him. "You will never regret this," he whispered, his hands roaming the older Elf's chest. Then he leaned down and settled against Glorfindel sliding his arms beneath the elder Elf's body.

Glorfindel smiled and waited, his hands traveling up and down the curved and muscular back of his lover. Then he waited some more. By the time it was clear to him that Haldir was not going to move the soft sound of snoring could be heard. Smiling ruefully, Glorfindel sighed and rolled over tugging the youngster upward until he lay fully on the bed. He took care of him, making sure Haldir was safe and then he gathered his clothing and slipped out. He would spend the night in the house of a friend sipping wine and talking over the old days, the possibilities of what had not transpired ever on Glorfindel's mind.

They would not see each other again for a couple of days and then they would falling into pleasant conversation. Haldir, filled with regret and a total absence of embarrassment would invite him to the forest edge. Then they would have enthusiastic sex at the top of a flet in the darkness of a Lorien summer's night. It would be the beginning of a long and casual affair, one that both looked forward to whenever the other was nearby.

"I will discharge my business of the moment, Glorfindel," a voice said drawing him from his musings. Glorfindel stared down at Erestor noting that they were arrived at the house of Celeborn. He nodded and dismounted considering what he would do for a while before dinner when he would be a guest at the table of the Lord and Lady of the Wood. "Very well, Erestor. I'm going to look up friends."

"Anyone in particular?" Erestor asked his eyebrow arched more than usual.

Glorfindel turned and grinned. "Perhaps. Are you bothered if so?"

Erestor shrugged slightly, averting his gaze. "Not in the slightest." Challenge was in his voice even as something contradictory was clearly in his posture.

Glorfindel moved closer, invading his lover's space. "So ... what you are saying is ... if I find, say, Haldir ... you would not be disturbed if things happened between us?"

Erestor stood rigidly, his face a mask of indifference. "I do not own you, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel nodded and grinned. "Very well, my friend. I will see you at dinnertime. Give my regards to the Lady and Lord."

Erestor nodded and watched, his dark eyes following Glorfindel until he disappeared into the crowd. For a moment, he was indifferent and then the unsettled feeling that he had been a fool took over. Turning, gathering his gear, he began the long upward climb to the talan of Celeborn and Galadriel.

=0=

"You are a quiet companion, my Lord Glorfindel."

The voice of his host jolted him and he turned, sheepishly apologizing to Celeborn. They were in the garden sipping wine and having their usual private conversation following dinner. Erestor had excused himself, more than aware of the custom of his lover and his host. They had walked together to the garden settling and chatting about a lifetime of shared experiences. "You seem pensive. Perhaps you can unburden yourself," Celeborn suggested, his solemn eyes piercing Glorfindel.

"You hear much, Celeborn. I would think you would be weary of hearing the woes of others."

"Not among friends," Celeborn replied quietly.

It was silent a moment and then Glorfindel sighed, rising. He turned and stared at his host, marveling again at his handsome and stately grace. He was also aware of the manly passions that informed this most unusual person, the masculinity that informed him, barely contained in the ethereal aura of his personal majesty. He was a deceptive individual that people underestimated at their own peril. Glorfindel sighed. "Have you ever wondered if the path you took was the right one? That perhaps if you had just taken two steps down another road it would all be different."

"Every day, never," Celeborn said smiling slightly. "It's all over, you know, the past. It will never come back and so we cannot change it. All you can do is learn its lessons and move on. But I am hardly the one to tell you that. Who among us has had your life?"

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "That is true."

It was silent a moment.

"Have you ever thought that there was something missing, something important that you should have had but you don't? I'm thinking that maybe there is something missing in me, something that may have never been there to start with that has made choices for me rather than the other way around."

"What makes you think such dark thoughts? Are you conjuring something from your other life that causes you such confusion?"

"Is that what it is, Celeborn, confusion?" Glorfindel sat on a bench across from his friend. "Am I confused or is it something else? Am I remembering something that I was once and I am not now, or am I considering finally something that has never been a part of me?"

"I do not have enough information to hazard a guess," Celeborn replied quietly.

"You married. You and Galadriel. It was an occasion, a huge and fortuitous joining of spirits. Do you remember?"

Celeborn smiled, nodding. "She was my heart and she still is. I cannot imagine what it would be like without her with me. We are partners in this world, Glorfindel. I do not regret a moment."

"That is saying a lot considering the oceans of time we have sailed." Glorfindel sighed staring at the toe of his boot. "I wonder what is missing from me that makes me so alone."

Celeborn watched the emotions on Glorfindel's face, the play of sadness and confusion and the sense of mystification that tainted the nearly unnatural beauty of his usually open and happy expression. Glorfindel was unique among their kind, the most steadfast and true person he had ever met. To see him this way was disconcerting as well as painful. "You must tell me what plagues you, Glorfindel. Perhaps I can help you somehow."

Glorfindel sighed. "I never wed. I never did," Glorfindel said his gaze fixing Celeborn. "When it was time to come back, when I slowly came to myself once more I was waiting for someone to be a part of that first life, but there was no one. I remember thinking how strange it was that there had been no wife, no children in my first life. There is no one now. Do you not find that strange, Celeborn?" Glorfindel fixed him with shadowed eyes waiting as his friend sorted his thoughts.

"There have been others that have never married or did not follow the usual path of our people. Gil-galad springs to mind."

Glorfindel nodded, sighing. "He was much loved though and had things been different there would have been the same one at his side now as then."

Celeborn nodded, sighing with painful recollection. "He was with the King for many generations of men. When he died I feared for Elrond's continuation."

"The young Prince of Mirkwood has healed many painful places in Elrond's heart over these long years."

Celeborn nodded, staring into the space in front of him. He thought of his daughter, as he did at the mention of Gil-galad and missed her with the same intensity he felt the day she had sailed away from them taking a journey her own mother could not. It burned like fire sometimes, this longing for stability in a world that afforded none.

"I am sorry, Celeborn. This is a much sore subject for you," Glorfindel said softly shaking his head. "I am inconsiderate and I ask you to forgive me."

Celeborn shrugged, smiling slightly. "My daughter is in a place where nothing but good can happen to her. How can I be sorry about that?"

"You are," Glorfindel said pointedly.

"Yes," Celeborn admitted. "I wish it were all different but it will never be so we do what we do best. Endure."

Glorfindel nodded. "Elrond was a good husband to your daughter. I spent nearly every day that they were married in that house and they were friends. They were friends, Celeborn."

He nodded, smiling slightly. "I am glad for that. I love Elrond. He is a good man. He was the one I had in mind for my daughter all the years of her life. I knew that he would always do the right and best thing for her no matter what it meant to him to want something else. He is a good one, that Elf. I appreciate him and I like him. That is an amazing trick pulling that off."

Glorfindel snorted and grinned, nodding. "He has that facility. I love him like a son. All the days of my many incarnations I have sought to serve his house. It has not been something that I regret."

"Other things plague you."

Glorfindel nodded. "I am wondering if it is possible for me to feel as deeply as one might want or expect. I wish I knew what it meant to want something or someone so much that nothing else matters."

"You have never felt that?" Celeborn asked.

"I do not think so," Glorfindel replied softly. He glanced up meeting Celeborn's compassionate gaze. "I do not think so, Celeborn. I have seen it in others but I am not sure that it is an emotional state that I will ever know or conjure."

"You may yet," Celeborn replied, sad in his heart to hear such words. "The world is lonely, Glorfindel. Who knows that better than us? Yet we prevail. We endure. I think there is a curse in being immortal sometimes. The Gift of Men is much underestimated by those it favors. But I have faith. I have faith in you and the world. We must not give up. *You* must not give up. You will find your way as you always have. You have come past the fires of death and pain into the light of the world once more. There is a reason for it, I believe. It may just be that it is hidden from you, veiled until that moment when it all comes clear and the darkness lifts."

Glorfindel nodded sighing. "You are very wise, Mellon-nin. I hope that you are right. I should bear up better. After all, I have much to rejoice. I will consider your words most carefully."

Celeborn rose and smiled, looking away at the merry flow of his river. "The last time Elrond was here he skipped rocks across the water."

"Was he successful?" Glorfindel asked rising.

Celeborn smiled. "Not as much as one would expect." He looked at Glorfindel and grinned. "Do not tell him this but I found myself filled with mirth at his attempts. It makes him more human if you know what I mean. A Elf should have flaws."

Glorfindel laughed nodding in agreement. "You may use me as your glittering example then."

Celeborn smiled and bent down picking up a flat rock. He rubbed the dirt from it and turned, grinning at his companion. "Let us go and skip rocks."

Glorfindel smiled and the two turned walking down the path to the river's edge.

**********************************Late that night ...

He came in quietly shedding his clothing and climbing into bed after washing up. He sighed and glanced at his companion, noting that he was fast asleep. Glorfindel sighed again, staring at the ceiling as he digested the comments of his life-long friend and companion.

Celeborn was gentle with him that was clear. He was filled with turmoil and confused and conflicted emotions. As he lay quietly, his partner stirred and turned, moving closer. Glorfindel opened his arm and his partner slipped in settling against him, his long body pressed closely.

"Are you all right?" a whispered voice asked.

"I am fine," Glorfindel replied stroking the soft silken hair of his partner gently.

"You talked with Lord Celeborn?" the soft voice asked.

"Yes," Glorfindel replied. "It was a good talk."

"Did he help you with your confusions?"

Glorfindel sighed. "He gave me more to think about. As usual."

The body shifted and sleepy eyes greeted him, a soft sigh warm against Glorfindel's cheek. "You need comforting," the soft voice said moving closer to his lover. "Let me comfort you."

Soft lips found his and he was drawn once more into the warm and tender oblivion of another. He gave himself up falling into passion as the one with him gently coaxed him to forget. They moved slowly and when it was over, they lay together, a familiar  
tangle of arms and legs. Glorfindel kissed his forehead, whispering to him a poem from long ago. The soft Quenya murmur lulled his partner to sleep and when his breathing was even Glorfindel paused caught in silence and ennui. The body in his arms made all the difference and he held it gratefully, glad to be there. "Hannad, Haldir," he whispered. "Bain-nin gwador." [[[Thank you, Haldir, my beautiful brother.]]]

********************************The next day ...

They had finished their business with Celeborn and Galadriel, gathering together letters for Elrond to be given whence their return. In a short time, they would be going and as Glorfindel stood quietly, feeding carrots to his horse he watched as Erestor talked with the seneschal of the Lord and Lady of the Wood.

They had not slept together since they came here and they had not on the trail. Erestor's reticence had held and their disagreement at the door of the palace had riven them here. They were polite and professional but little more. It didn't bode well for the rest of their journey. Glorfindel sighed and patted his horse watching out of the corner of his eye as a tall fair Elf approached him, a smile on his face. Turning, he faced Haldir as he came up kissing Glorfindel softly on the lips. It was a cheeky move and Glorfindel willed himself not to glance back and see what Erestor had made of it.

"Is that him? The one that is twisting you into madness?" Haldir asked glancing fleetingly in the direction of the staircase where Erestor stood.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Glorfindel replied a smirk on his face as Haldir moved closer. They stood together, their chests nearly touching as Haldir made his point. "You are an interesting Elf, Glorfindel," Haldir said shaking his head. "He looks like a challenge."

"He is," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

"Rather like an ice cold river," Haldir murmured touching Glorfindel's long golden braid. "You might die of the cold before you drowned." He looked at Glorfindel with a smile. "You do not seem the type to traverse ice fields, you who holds so close to the sun."

"Live and learn," Glorfindel said a wicked streak rising in him. He sighed. "Thank you, Haldir for being my friend."

Haldir nodded glancing at Erestor who walked to his horse and mounted. He sat a moment, waiting with a glacial look on his face and then turned his horse, heading out with the two Elves who had come with them for the trip. He sighed and kissed Glorfindel softly, watching as he mounted himself. Grasping each other's arm, they bid farewell and Glorfindel turned, moving down the road to the free lands beyond the wood. Haldir watched as he rode away, shaking his head with concern.

************Second day on the trail to Edoras ...

"Tell me, Erestor ... when are you going to break your silence?"

Erestor glanced at his partner the two riding side by side followed at a distance by the soldiers that helped comprise security. He shrugged. "I have very little to say. These lands are not conducive to speech if you noticed."

The land had flattened out, the rocky expanse of deserted territory that lay between the wooded realm of Lothlorien and the flat horse lands of Edoras plain and uninviting. They camped as they went, soon to reach the great grasslands of Rohan and eventually the unaccustomed pleasure of the Hall of Meduseld and the city of Edoras.

"It is rather ... plain," Glorfindel replied without pun intended.

Erestor smiled slightly. "You have not been good company, Glorfindel. I have to say that."

"Forgive me, gwador*," he said sighing. "I have been plagued with thoughts lately of deep philosophical import. I have been considering them." [[[*Brother.]]]

"Indeed," Erestor answered agreeably. "You have not been yourself. Tell me, that Elf in Lothlorien ... is he the infamous 'he-of-the-two-brothers-Haldir'?"

Glorfindel sighed and nodded. "The one and only."

"He is rather beautiful. For a Lorien Elf. Vanyar in his family pedigree no doubt."

"No doubt," Glorfindel replied.

"You splurge yourself on blonds?" Dark eyes fixed his with a cool jaundiced stare.

"I am not adverse to gold, Erestor," Glorfindel replied.

"So I have noticed." It was silent a moment. "Tell me, when you get to Edoras will you bed a man there? Perhaps a blond to satisfy your hitherto unknown fondness for yellow?"

Glorfindel smiled slightly. "I have never partaken the pleasures of Men."

"What would prevent you, Glorfindel from doing so?" Erestor asked no rancor present in his voice.

It was silent a moment and then Glorfindel sighed. "I have to say, Erestor your placid temper in this discussion is most disconcerting. What is the matter? Why do you not hurl something at me or make your displeasure known?"

"What makes you think I am displeased? Frankly, we are not bound to each other nor are we pledged in any way, shape or form."

"Even between us in affection?" Glorfindel asked surprised.

"I feel great affection for you, my friend," Erestor replied. "But I am not sure that an alliance of the heart is possible. I have never wed for a reason and I cannot see now how I can change."

"Why did you not wed?" Glorfindel asked curiously.

Erestor considered his question. "We are all expected to do many things because of who we are. I chose the single path because I cannot bear the idea of having someone else's life in my care. What if something happened? What if they were killed? What if it was my duty and charge to take care of them and I failed?"

"Why would you think that, Erestor?" Glorfindel asked his voice soft with surprise.

It was silent a long moment before dark eyes turned to him. "It has always been so, Glorfindel. We die. Always, we die. Even now, the sun sets upon us and we will turn to the west or fade. All of the people I have ever loved have died. All of them. The cities of our people, the rulers of our clans ... they are all gone now. They have passed into the west and will come no more. Some days the weight of the past is so oppressive that I force myself to move from my bed. The House would not function without me, I know and so I find my place in the middle of things and there I stay a solitary rock in the middle of the rivuling stream. All the water of life flows around me and I am there secure in the middle, untouched and untouchable." He sighed. "I remember how little the boys were, the twins. Lost to their parents, lost to their kingdoms, nearly lost to us all. Elrond is a miracle. I serve him with all my strength. As do you."

It was silent for a long time, Glorfindel lost in the sorrow of that quiet admission. He sighed deeply. "You never told me that you felt this way, that the past had hurt you so much."

"It is our lot, the oldest among us. Elrond has found his way again, the affection of his young one saving him from the arid afflictions that surround us all. You left us, Glorfindel falling to save others. I loved you for that with all the passion I could spare. The days passed, all of them and our people fled or died. The evil of all those times clings to me and I can taste bile in my throat. It has only been in the past few months that feelings of any other kind have arisen in me."

Glorfindel nodded sighing. "I wonder sometimes, my friend why I cannot reach out completely. I dally here and there taking affection where I can but I give my heart to no one. You are close, my brother, very close."

"And you to me, Glorfindel," Erestor said shaking his head. "I am not sure what true feelings of love must be like. I watch Elrond and his young one and see such a look in his eyes as I have not seen since Gil-galad was alive, yet I cannot figure out  
how to get such a thing for myself. You are my friend and companion, my brother in shared memory and loss. When I come to you the darkness that always shadows me fades a little in the light of your spirit." He glanced at Glorfindel. "You do me much good but when it comes to finding the path to true feelings fear overcomes me and I flee."

"I asked Celeborn what it meant to feel such affection, to know the warmth of someone's love. I told him that perhaps something had not come back to me when I had been reborn. I remember I was surprised that there was no wife and children. I have no children, Erestor. There will be no one to call me father. Even as I feel such regret at the idea of it, the depth of my despair over it is not as great as I expect it to be. I do not understand it."

"I do," Erestor said sighing. "I know the feeling. Some of us, we did not come through the days of our life intact. I know that in my dreams they come to me, the old ones, ones that I loved. They march before me their youth and glory so real I could touch them but when I open my eyes they are gone. It does not burden me every day but it comes to me often enough to make me wonder about myself."

Glorfindel nodded. "I know. You hide behind your glacial expressions and your stiff-necked dignity but I see it in you."

"And I in you, your moods especially, my friend," Erestor replied.

Glorfindel smiled slightly reaching over and squeezing his partner's arm. "We are a pair. Do you feel sometimes that you lived too long?"

"Daily," Erestor replied with a chuckle.

It was silent a moment. Then bemused dark eyes turned to Glorfindel impaling him with their intensity. "Tell me, gwador ... which blond man will you set your sights upon in the city of the Rohirrim?"

Glorfindel snorted and sighed shaking his head. "You are impossible."

"So I have been told," Erestor said quietly a grin on his face.

=0=

On a hilltop in Rohan ...

The ride had been long and companionable, oceans of grass waving in the breeze as the miles fell away from them. They had fallen back into a light banter, sleeping on the ground together side by side. By the time they had crested the hill that led down to the valley that cut through the plain below their destination they could see Edoras in the distance. A city perched on a great outcropping of stone, a walled and much guarded place, Edoras was home to the Horse Lords. Houses made of wood surrounded the hill occupying all the heights leading upward to a great hall, carved wood and emboldened gold designs enhancing what appeared to be great age and a rustic powerful beauty.

They sat their horses, staring along the fort's battlements when the rumbling of many hooves could be heard. They glanced over their shoulders watching the hilltops behind them as the rumbling and pounding came ever closer. Erestor sat without expression, his keen eyes watching the hill behind them as over the top a galloping mob of riders emerged. They rode many across, their formation broad rather than tight and their armor glinted in the spring sun. It was stirring, the sight of them coming and the four Elves sat composed as they altered their course, heading toward them like a flight of birds.

Spears like slender trees, a forest of them pointing skyward attested to their armaments, swords as well hanging from their waists. Leather and metal, the stylized adornments of horse and hunting dog, all of this was plain to their keen eyes. Helms glittered in the sunlight, horsetails flying as they bore down, green caped and fierce, intimidating and unwavering. They thundered past and turned placing themselves between the Elves and their home city, milling around until with precision they came to order together. There was no sound from them; just hard looks from hard men and then a big man came forward walking his horse boldly toward them until he paused just before where they waited expectantly.

"What are four Elves doing here in the Riddermark?" he asked his voice strong, commanding and masculine. Glorfindel considered him, taking his measure in the brief seconds they had. "We are here on our Lord's business," he replied his voice even and fair. "We have business with the King."

The big man considered them and then spurred his horse closer, pausing beside Glorfindel, his blue eyes piercing and unwavering. "The King ... he is occupied."

The words came uneasily, sticking somewhat and Glorfindel noted this filing it into his memory for later rumination. "We have come a long way from Rivendell in the north. We are told that the hospitality of the Rohirrim is legendary. I am wondering, horseman, is this still so?"

The horseman stared at him, a hard and measuring gaze. "I am told that Elves live in treetops and have little to do with the rest of the world."

"There are no trees as you can see," Glorfindel replied, glancing around himself. "But we would be much fairly disposed to sit a while in the Lord's tall house. Aeries are favorable to our kind."

"So it is said," the big man replied. He was silent a moment and then turned, calling out something in a language that Glorfindel didn't know. Glancing at the Elves, he nodded. "We ride to Edoras."

With that, he spurred his mount and with his men surrounding them they rode together to the gates of the city entering and galloping with much gusto to the great hall at the top of the hill. Passing through a large city, wooden houses topped with horse heads on all sides of them, they rode regally as befitting their kind more than holding their own with the horsemen.

At the great hall, they dismounted, handing off their horses to young boys who stood waiting, staring at them with big and wondering eyes. Glorfindel turned waiting for the big man and with him followed Erestor behind. It was dark inside, a place filled with age and much beauty. It was a masculine place, a warrior's domicile and fitting to the rustic manly expression of its horsemen. A fire pit stood in the middle halfway down the hall and at the end of it seated above all others, the king's chair stood.

They watched with discretion, more than aware that they were representing their people, a people not often seen here. They were aware that children's tales held most of what people here knew of their kind and so their manner was reserved and regal as they walked to the figure sitting slumped in the chair on the dais.

They paused, the big man uncomfortable. Stepping closer, he leaned down and whispered, an old man bearing a circlet of his station about his gray head barely acknowledging him. He was of indeterminate age, someone listing with illness and it appeared that he was infirm in the extreme. He listened to the big man, listened Glorfindel determined as best he could and as they whispered together he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. Standing behind a pillar watching with watery eyes, a figure dressed in black loitered. He was tall but of indeterminate build, dressed in black robes and pale as milk in the weak light of the room.

He watched the two, an expression of great animosity on his face and then he turned his gaze on Glorfindel. They stared at each other, a golden light in full glare of something dark and unwholesome and Glorfindel schooled his face not to reveal his deep distaste.

Pale hands gripped the edges of his robe and he moved from the corner, stepping up to where the two men conversed. The big man stopped, his head snapping up and something akin to hatred filled his eyes. He didn't step away and the pale figure paused not moving closer as if in fear of injury. "What brings you here, Eomer? You were riding in the north last told."

The voice of the figure was odd, somewhat cultured but oily, as if the tongue of his mouth flickered like a reptile, tasting the air, filling the room with darkling menace. He moved sideways a step, coming closer to the Elves who were fixed with his shifting eyes. "And who are you to come here? Elves? This far south of the great woods?"

"Our business is with the Lord of Rohan," Erestor said his voice glacial with dignity and disdain. "We do not converse with underlings."

Glorfindel wanted to laugh aloud, finding in the haughty retort something of older times in different lands. Visions of Thingol passed through his mind as he schooled his face to match Erestor's words.

The creature flinched, fixing Erestor with a piercing look. Evil was its cast and Glorfindel found his hand restless on the hilt of his sword. The creature may have intuited his movement as he melted into a much more agreeable being nodding to Erestor as one would its master. "Of course," he said nodding. His face was wreathed in good humor, none of which reached his eyes. "I am Grima, counselor to the King. The King," he said pausing, turning to the slumped figure in the chair, "is much burdened with the affairs of his great kingdom. I am authorized to speak for him and to hear business on his behalf."

Erestor fixed him with a regal eye, impaling him on the centuries of his own existence. "I am authorized to speak with the King of Rohan. Although you may be his servant, I am the Seneschal of the Lord of Imladris and what I bring to your master is for his ears alone."

The creature paled, his rage gathering in his unwholesome brow but he didn't betray much, so complete was his self-control. He nodded and bowed, stepping back. "I will have the King ready for an audience with you following dinner. You will of course be our guests tonight at table?"

Erestor glanced at the big man beside them, noting the seething hatred in his eyes and turned back to the creature. He considered his words longer than necessary nodding curtly. "We will consent."

The creature swallowed and turned to the king helping him to unsteady feet. Turning and whispering, the creature led him away, the hall brightening at the absence of him. Glorfindel turned, noting the gaze of the big man watching with deep frustration as the king disappeared. Then he turned, catching Glorfindel's eye, glancing away as he composed himself. "I am Eomer, son of Eomund, nephew to the King. I will show you to your quarters."

He turned and they glanced at each other following him through the great hall as they climbed stairs to chambers where they would stay. They entered big rooms, turning and waiting as he stood by the door, edgy and angry. "I must go and attend to duties but I will be at table tonight. I bid you rest and refresh yourself."

They nodded and he turned, disappearing into the hallway leaving the room curiously empty by his absence. Glorfindel turned gazing at his partner. Erestor shook his head and walked to the door closing it. He thought a moment and then looked at Glorfindel, his expression concerned. "I would like for you to keep the younger man company, Glorfindel. Learn as much as you can. This feels wrong," Erestor said. "I will talk to the King as best I can. I feel something evil in the room when we were there, something not of this world."

"I did too," Glorfindel said nodding. "I will do my best."

***************************Later ...

They sat in honored places, washed and changed, their robes fitting to a king's domicile. The King's nephew came late and took his place with apologies citing problems settled elsewhere. The conversation was strained and even the presence of the King's niece, a lovely woman named Eowyn spared them none of the strangeness of the house. By the time it was over Glorfindel felt itchy in his own skin and needful of the evening air.

The creature, Grima sat near the king whispering to him as the evening wore on. Erestor followed Theoden moving to a corner with comfortable chairs. Grima followed but kept good distance seemingly afraid of the Elf lord. Glorfindel watched them and then the two youngsters noting in their cold gazes much hatred for the counselor. Eomer turned, noting Glorfindel's scrutiny and then sat back composed and calm. "You have come a great distance. I have not much experience with Elf kind."

"In the past there was much between us but the days grow short and our time is fading. Some day there will be no Elves in the world and the Age of Men will be upon you," Glorfindel replied smiling slightly. "All that happens will be yours to decide, the good and the bad."

"Perhaps," Eomer said glancing over his shoulder at the quiet discussion beyond them. He sighed deeply and rose, staring down at Glorfindel. "I need air."

Glorfindel nodded and rose bowing to the lady, moving with her brother to the great doors beyond. Stepping out, staring in the star-filled sky, they stood quietly refreshing themselves on the cool evening breeze.

"The night is beautiful," Eomer said quietly. "Who would know from that there were cares in the world?"

"Who indeed," Glorfindel replied watching as the big man rubbed his arm. "Injury?"

"I have been in the saddle many days. I haven't even had time to wash."

"Then you must now," Glorfindel suggested smiling. "I will keep you company and you can entertain me with tales of your people."

"Comfortable words from someone of the Fair Folk. I know you are old but you look younger than me."

"Do not let looks deceive you, Eomer," Glorfindel said following the big man as they entered the house.

"Looks," Eomer said darkly. "Looks are but masks behind which vipers hide."

"The creature with your uncle," Glorfindel replied.

He nodded and entered a big room, a man's room filled with dark furniture and few personal possessions. Glorfindel stared around discreetly searching in the warm decor something of the man before him. There were hangings on the walls, horses galloping and two dressers. A carved box sat on one and there were chairs before a fireplace. In the corner was a big bed, its covers unmade. A scarlet coverlet over white sheets and a woolen blanket indicated someone had slept there but when was indeterminate.

Eomer smiled slightly noting Glorfindel's gaze. "I have been gone a while."

"So it would seem," Glorfindel replied watching as armor and sword were carefully removed and placed on hooks on the wall. He moved to the bed and sat heavily weariness clear on his face. "You have much toil behind you."

"I am weary and poor company. Our people pride themselves on our hospitality but I am an inadequate host for someone who has journeyed so far," he said tugging at a boot.

Glorfindel moved to him gripping his foot. Deftly he pulled and two boots were soon off tossed by a small table in the corner. Socks joined them and then Eomer stood pulling his tunic off without care of company.

Glorfindel took a seat, watching with interest as fair skin was revealed. Tan lines stopped at neck and wrists as pale skin dominated otherwise. Eomer's shoulders were broad, muscles bunched on his arms and chest, the body of a warrior clearly defined. Dusting his chest, reddish-gold thick hair tantalized drawing Glorfindel's eye. He was very strong and sturdy, a big man who could hold his own in battle but found the murky goings-on of court an effrontery to his honor and pride.

He was straight-forward, smart and hot-headed but there was a decency to him that appealed to Glorfindel, a dignity and shrewdness as well as courage. It must be very hard for you Glorfindel mused to watch that snake coil around your King.

"There is wine on the table. I hope you will avail yourself," he said turning to go to his bathing chamber. The sound of water being poured into a basin could be heard through the wall as Glorfindel filled two crystal glasses with an amber wine.

He walked to the door, peering in. Eomer was naked, pouring hot water into a tub from a basin on a heating grate next to it. He swirling it with his hand, unconcerned over the condition of his nakedness and then entered the water sitting down with a groan. Glorfindel smiled and handed him a glass, sitting on a small bench against the wall. "Sore?"

"Very," Eomer replied, rolling the glass back and forth across his forehead. "Thank you for the wine. Some days there cannot be enough."

Glorfindel snorted and chuckled tipping his glass to the reclining youngster. "I remember many days such as this."

Eomer smiled, a thing of beauty, nodding as he sipped his drink. "You come to us in darkening times. The King falls under the influence of the beast. The King's son, Theodred rides far and near holding the kingdom together by sheer force of will and everywhere signs and portents of dark days are found."

Glorfindel sighed, shadows of other times filling his head as he listened to the soft bitter voice of the young man tell the story of his family and their holdings. "Send the creature away," Glorfindel suggested watching as a wistful expression crossed the man's face.

"Would that I could," Eomer said. His expression darkened. "He watches my sister and there is little I can do. I would run him through with a sword but for the fear I have that my uncle will suffer from whatever spell he has cast upon him."

Glorfindel nodded. "I feel evil here, something ill defined but emanating from the seedy figure that envelopes your uncle. I fear the future should he not be turned out."

"And I," Eomer said laying his head back. Dark lashes lay against his pale face, feathers against the snow of his skin. Glorfindel stared at them and the face they occupied and found it handsome and strong. Eomer's hair was blond and wavy, falling past his shoulders, trailing darkly in the water on each side of his head. His lips were red and full and a sensation of pleasure abounded in the idea of sucking on the lower one as Glorfindel continued his inventory of the young man. Well-muscled shoulders, broad and strong trailed droplets of water glistening down a powerful chest, one marked with scars. Droplets were trapped in the golden silk on Eomer's chest and Glorfindel longed to touch it.

He sighed, the eyelashes fluttering as he came back from silent reverie meeting Glorfindel's sympathetic gaze. "You come from Rivendell?"

Glorfindel nodded.

"Much fabled history have I heard of it and its lord. Your name is not unknown to me although it would be coincidence that you and that Glorfindel might be the same."

Glorfindel smiled. "Such is the world that coincidence and truth should find themselves partners. It could be that your assumptions might be flawed, Eomer, son of Eomund."

A smile formed, the full lips parting to reveal white and even teeth. "So it would be true then. Glorfindel, slayer of balrogs has ascended from myth into my wash room."

Glorfindel snorted smirking at Eomer, tilting his head playfully. "It could be so, my Lord."

"I am overrun with admiration then. Your story is one for retelling until the ends of the world. I have marveled at your courage all the days of my life."

"Courage ..." Glorfindel mused. "That's what you do when there is nothing else to do."

"You could have run," Eomer suggested.

"Perhaps," Glorfindel replied,faded memories of horror and terror filtering through the barrier he had constructed over those times. "Children and women, the flowers of our future, they had to be protected. Little payment that they should continue, the death of one Elf."

"One too many since it was your own."

"Perhaps," Glorfindel replied. "But then it saved my lord and his house. That is the important thing. Not the death of one Elf. There were so many then, that war of uncounted tears."

"I was born too soon," Eomer said sighing. "There was much glory and much honor in those times among all who opposed the darkness. I wish I had been there."

"Honor can be found in every age," Glorfindel said considering the youngster in the tub. "It is to be had by the willing and the brave."

"Then there will be glory days ahead," Eomer said his gaze fixed on the golden presence before him. "All the days of my life, I sought the light."

Glorfindel nodded, his eyes never leaving Eomer's. The youngster sat up setting his glass down. Sighing, he stared at Glorfindel. "You are unlike anything or anyone I have met. I have always wondered about your kind. What manner of person are you, Elf master? What brings joy to your heart?"

Glorfindel sighed considering the question. "I do not know," he said the melancholy of centuries settling in his bones. "I thought I knew once. Now, I am not sure."

Eomer nodded sighing. "I feel it too, the change in the world. Things will become much darker in coming days. It takes a strong man to face it. I hope that I may."

"You will," Glorfindel said quietly. "Of that, I have no doubt."

It grew silent in the room.

=0=

Eomer looked away, staring at the glass in his hand. The heat between them was real and he could feel it, the desire to touch palpable. The unknown, the sheer exotic attraction hung in the air between them and he considered what he would do next.

"The water must be cold. Come. Get out," Glorfindel said rising and making the decision for him. He smiled and turned, stepping out of the room, leaving Eomer's intense gaze behind. He exhaled and shook his head putting his glass down on the table. Turning, he listened as water rustled and the sounds of movement came through the open door.

He walked to the fireplace, stirring the coals and putting more wood on, drawing warmth into the room. Sitting on a chair, he watched as Eomer joined him pulling on trousers and tunic. Walking to the fireplace, he stood and stared at the flames, considering something in his mind. "You're ancient, one of the Wise. I respect your opinion. What do you think is going to happen to the world?" He turned and fixed his dark eyes on Glorfindel watching him as he considered his reply.

"It is almost the time of Men and you must look to the West. That which was broken will be recast and the King of Men returned to wage their might against the Shadow. All men must be vigilant for the time of reckoning is drawing nigh."

Eomer sighed nodding. He moved to sit next to Glorfindel, resting his elbows on his knees. "I fear that when the time comes all will be lost and the world of men destroyed. Gondor has already tasted the sword. We cannot count upon them in the end. It will fall to us one-by-one and one-by-one we will fail." He sat back, concern etched on his face. "You will go finally, all of your kind and the world will be a sadder place. You will be remembered in tales told to children, the First Born children of the world reduced to fable and myth."

Glorfindel stared at the fire, a thousand days passing before him of valor and achievement and hope. Faces seldom remembered, places long since lost, all of it surged before him. "You fear the future."

"I fear that we cannot shape it so that what we are and hope to remain survives," he said softly turning to gaze at his companion. "We have lived here, my family, for five hundred years. This place, this Hall, it's the fountainhead of our identity. I will be no one's slave."

Glorfindel nodded sighing. "I have faced despair with a sword in hand many times, young one. When there was no dawning to the day, I found perseverance my only hope. I cannot believe that the world of men will not live on. It is the will of Iluvatar that Man come into his own. You must not believe that there is no coming dawn to the night."

Eomer nodded and glanced at Glorfindel. "You came back. What must that mean to you, Glorfindel? You came back from the dead and I have no comfort that I will do the same. When I die, I am dead. Even until the end of the world. But you ... you have the comfort of another chance."

Glorfindel was silent a moment, then he looked at Eomer, at his serious expression and his beautiful eyes. "It can be a curse, immortality. You have the blessing of mortality. You will never know the weariness that endless remembering can bring."

"Are you sorry you came back? That you have another chance?"

"I am not sure why I was so blessed. My Lord is my friend and I am bound to him. His House will ever have my protection. It has always been so and it always will be. It seemed little consequence to come back to serve my people and the lord to whom my greatest respect is given. I do not truly believe that things are without purpose, that we live futile lives, Eomer. I do believe that we are woven together, disparate threads that together make something good and worthwhile. For you, it is your people and your way of life. For me, it is my lord and my memories. All of this world holds memories for me, some good and some bad. I lived two lives here."

"I have only one life to give to my country and my king. I fear for both in the hands of the worm tongue but I am at odds to choose what to do. I cannot jeopardize what may happen if I give vent to my baser instincts and cleave his head from his shoulders."

"But the mental image must give you comfort," Glorfindel replied relief filling him at the answering smile from the youngster. "Play many death scenarios in your mind, my Lord. It will keep your keel even in the heavy water of your seething rage."

Eomer snorted and looked at Glorfindel, smiling broadly. "You are as wise as you are beautiful."

Glorfindel chuckled. "You are honey-tongued for a man. Do you always speak thus of those you know so little about?"

"Only those that interest me."

Glorfindel smirked and shook his head. "I have never been considered thus by a Second Born child of this world. Very few opportunities to know the pleasures of Men have afforded themselves to me."

"In your long life, you have never been the object of a man's lust? I find that hard to fathom."

Glorfindel smirked. "Opportunity, my young man was seldom an option. One must know to mingle and to mingle one must seek."

"You never sought," Eomer asked rising and walking to the table. He paused and turned. "A glass?"

Glorfindel nodded and watched as he poured amber wine, walking back barefooted to give him a glass. Sitting, Eomer considered his companion with a sidelong glance. "You did not marry."

Glorfindel shook his head. "Nay. It never cropped up."

"Elves marry, I am told. Unless that is another child's story fallacy."

"Elves marry," Glorfindel replied smiling slightly. "This Elf did not."

"Why? If I may be so bold?"

Glorfindel thought a moment, centuries passing by swiftly in his mind. He glanced at Eomer, shrugging. "It's as if there is a book in which is written on each page all that you may become or achieve. Nowhere on the page with my name did it say family or wife."

"Do you believe that?" Eomer asked sipping his glass.

"No," Glorfindel replied staring at the fire. Tendrils of flame curled and licked and he glanced away, pushing images back that crept around his internal controls. "I don't believe that but perhaps it gives comfort."

Eomer sat staring at the fire, his long legs stretched out before him. The fire light flickered, shadows dancing against the wall as he considered Glorfindel's words.

"You are not married," Glorfindel said his voice soft and wistful.

"No," Eomer said,sighing. "There is no time. All around us the Shadow grows. The Enemy ranges over our lands and we struggle to keep back the tide. There is no time for such things."

"What do you do for comfort?" Glorfindel persisted laying his head against the back of the chair, his gaze fixed on the figure beside him.

"Comfort ..." Eomer mused, sighing. "I find little time for such things. The duties of my station force me to make sacrifices. Comfort appears to be among them."

Glorfindel sighed, the echo of similar words in other times drifting through memory. He sat up and put the glass on the floor turning to his companion. "You cannot live a life without a refuge. I know. I have done this before. You must find something for yourself and go there some times. Your duties will only be easier to bear if you do this."

Eomer sat up and stared at the fire considering his words. "You speak wisdom but you know and I that there will be a reckoning soon. The ill winds gather and they blow across our lands. The first battle will be here and we will all fall without vigilance. Someday, if in the end the world is still ours and I am still here, I will take your words to heart and find this place for myself."

Glorfindel looked at Eomer, at the soft gold of his hair and the torment in his eyes and felt futility rising, a sense of loss even in the midst of life that men always raised in him. This one would give all that he was to his people and perhaps he would live. Maybe he would fall and the songs of his people would be his epitaph. However it came, Eomer would do his duty. He would do it even as Glorfindel always did and the emptiness of that burden filled him. "You are young. Would that it could be different," he whispered.

Eomer rose, his eyes dark with emotion and he held out his hand, waiting. Glorfindel stared at him, at the determination and the trepidation in those dark eyes. Then he rose and took Eomer's glass setting it beside his own. He reached up and brushed his fingers across Eomer's brow, sighing. "Frowns do not become you, young one," he whispered.

Eomer closed his eyes, sighing softly as Glorfindel gently brushed his cheek. "You came to me at need and I thank you."

Glorfindel kissed him softly. "You live such brilliant lives, trailing across the sky like shooting stars. You flare and shine illuminating the darkness and then you are gone, vanishing once more. I cannot know what it means to be such a person but I know about need. Let me soothe you, Eomer, son of Eomund. I know about sorrow and despair."

The dark eyes closed as gentle fingers loosened ties, worked fasteners and tugged cloth away. Fingers touched him, soft traces on his skin and he stood silently, tension flowing from his body. "Lie back," Glorfindel whispered gently pressing Eomer to the bed, watching as he stretched out, his hands gripping the scarlet coverlet. "Let me soothe you, Eomer. Close your eyes and rest."

Glorfindel tugged his boots off, shedding his tunic as he did. Moving, he straddled the younger man smiling at his look of surprise. Eomer closed his eyes again and Glorfindel took his arm working with great skill to knead and massage the muscles.

"That feels wonderful," Eomer said, sighing slightly. "You have skill with your hands."

Glorfindel smiled. "You have a facility with words."

Eomer smiled, his eyes opening for a second. They closed again, warmed by the contact and the skill of his partner. "You are strange to me, but I am glad to know you. In other times there would be tales to tell."

"You are a sporting man?" Glorfindel asked reaching down and beginning a massage of Eomer's neck and shoulders.

He sighed, shifting slightly as Glorfindel's fingers worked their magic. Tension flowed away replaced by comfort and relaxation. "Perhaps," he replied noncommittally. "Depends upon the sport."

"Horses, I am sure are your forte. What about women?"

"They spell doom in these times. Not by their intentions but by unknown consequences. The threat of unforeseen possibilities right now would be more than difficult. I would not cast that on a child for any reason."

"You fear their death or your own?" Glorfindel asked, the memory of finding himself without home or children, at the resurrection of his own rebirth flashing through him, the piercing surprise once more a fresh wound.

"I do not fear my own death," Eomer said fierce eyes finding Glorfindel in the darkened room. "I know my lot as a warrior. But the idea of my children dying in a world that is so set against them, that would be hard to bear. No father can want such a fate for their own."

Glorfindel nodded sighing. He kneaded the flesh of Eomer's chest, firm muscles and soft hair meeting his touch. "As it always is among the weak and defenseless. Such is the world. Yet you cast yourself amidst the torrents seeking your future. Do you worry that it might be a singular journey? That the kith and kin that you desire might not be yours at the end of your path?"

"That is always a possibility. We do not have the luxury of time. We live in a finite world of effort and hopefulness buffeted by the winds of fate. Then it is over and we go into the next world without the sure knowledge that there will be another opportunity to live and do whatever it was that we missed the first time. Such is our fate and our doom."

Glorfindel nodded leaning down over Eomer. He leaned further brushing his lips against Eomer's. "You must take care, my young one not to squander too much time alone."

Dark eyes opened and strong arms reached up, fingers threading through thick blond hair. "You are beautiful. I do not wish to be myself tonight. Take me elsewhere, if for just a little while."

Glorfindel nodded and leaned down pressing his lips against Eomer's. Soft and full, tender and needy, they met his with a sigh. For a few hours alone in the dark, they would forget the world and its menace and lie together until light streaked the dark dawn sky. For a few hours, they would have no cares but what the moment brought them.

*********************At the light of dawn ...

They parted quietly, a gentle kiss and a strong embrace. Glorfindel watched as Eomer slipped away going to the stable to begin another day in the saddle. When he returned they would be gone heading south to Gondor. The sky was blood red and the sun barely breaking the horizon when the band rode out, spears held upright and banners flashing in the brisk morning breeze.

Glorfindel waved and they disappeared into the darkness riding north to secure the safety of all the people of the Mark. He turned and paused looking up at a window. Peering out, his pale face as a ghost in the night Grima watched him, his expression indeterminate in the dim light. Glorfindel stared back and then went inside to take a meal with Erestor and the others before taking their leave. It would be noon by the time the great hall finally disappeared from view. It would fall into the miles and memories of his long and eventful life.

Gondor was next and then a long ride via the Ford of Isen and the northward journey to the hidden valley of Imladris. As they rode, he would consider a young man's fears, the courage of the Rohirrim and the fading star of the King as the winds of change gathered around them.

=0=

On the trail to Gondor ...

They sat together, the flickering light of the campfire comforting against the slight chill of the evening breeze. The other two Elves in their party were on guard taking their turn as the two sat together, talking and watching the canopy of stars overhead.

"What make you of Grima?" Erestor asked staring intently at the sky.

"He's as murky as they come," Glorfindel replied stirring the fire absently with a stick. "I would not trust him anymore than I would a scorpion. I sense deep evil in him."

"He's poisoning the king. I must remember to tell Mithrandir of this turn of events."

"If you see him," Glorfindel replied. "I have not seen him in our blessed valley for too long."

Erestor nodded. "When he comes, I will make sure to talk this over with him. The young one, the Prince ... he is filled with wrath over this."

Glorfindel sighed. "He is. He fears doing anything to the creature as long as he casts his spells over the King. He fears that the King will be harmed should Grima come to a much deserved end."

Erestor nodded sighing. "They have a dilemma. I would have put an end to him, myself."

Glorfindel smiled. "You do have a detachment about such things. I admire that greatly in you, gwador."

Erestor smiled, a warm and genuine expression and looked at his partner, considering his thoughts. "What have you learned from your sojourn among the men of Rohan?"

Glorfindel smirked and glanced at his partner, Erestor sitting with a slightly mocking expression on his own handsome face. "Men of Rohan are an interesting breed. They tend to run to fatalism of late, the atmosphere of gathering gloom not conducive to making plans for the long term. Eomer is a good man but I fear for his longevity. Wormtongue will make things short and bitter for him, I fear."

"Wormtongue?" Erestor asked a slight smile on his face.

"That is what they call him," Glorfindel replied with a chuckle. "Given his deathly pallor and flaccid expression, I would say it suits him."

"I would not disagree," Erestor replied shaking his head.

"I feel a foreboding here, an unease on the land. It grows the further south we go," Glorfindel remarked staring at the canopy of stars above them. "Eomer spoke of diminished contact with Gondor. The Steward seldom leaves the White City, instead relying on his sons all the more to be his eyes and ears."

"What are they like?" Erestor asked.

"Boromir is the oldest, a great warrior I am told and the favorite of his father," Glorfindel began pausing. "How do you choose among your children to make one favored? I do not understand it." It was silent a moment. "Faramir is the younger, a much more contemplative figure and is considered by all to be the 'good' son."

"And much overlooked?" Erestor posed arching an eyebrow.

"So it would appear," Glorfindel replied placing more wood on the fire. "He is much loved by those who serve under his command and the people love him. It is said that they are

good brothers, friends of the heart. I am glad to hear this. I would be sorry to know that they did not have favor with each other."

Erestor nodded. "I can assume that Boromir is the one to seek out if the father is out of commission? I do not know what kind of reception we shall receive. Elves have not been among the men of the south for many generations, though the ties of old still cling. They speak a language that is like unto our own if I remember, Quenya in the mix and much preserved in honor. I would assume that the manner of old and the dignity of Gondor would assure some kind of proper welcome."

"I would hope so," Glorfindel replied. "Many is the time I have tread the halls of the King's House engaged with the current occupant. But it has been a very long time, just before the stewards came to be that I have been here. I wonder what the city still looks like, so close to the enemy do they now dwell."

"Gondor has had much incursion from fell creatures and orcs over these many months as has Rohan," Erestor murmured. He sighed. "It is difficult to manage a life here when all around you the Eye watches."

"Eomer talked over it, the roaming bands of orcs they have hunted and he is away much taking care of what he can. Theodred, the King's son is much occupied. He is a valiant figure or so it is said. There is still much to admire in the Mark and Gondor I would think even if the years press and the blood thins."

Erestor nodded. "I am curious over Denethor. I have mere glimmerings that he is of a temper these past few years and those who see him are given cold treatment."

"That is echoed in what I was told," Glorfindel said. "What do we do between us together to find out more? Mithrandir should know of this as well as our lord. This affects us all in the end. The fall of Rohan and Gondor makes our own doom inevitable."

"Make your light shine on the sons of Denethor. Find out what they will tell you by wiles and conversation."

Glorfindel snorted and looked at his partner, a smile on his face. "Just like that?"

"You have a way with men," Erestor said without irony or jest. "Your logic suits them and they come to you with open hearts. I am of a different stripe. Ask them what you will and see what you may learn. Perhaps it will be needed in some day coming up when the growing dismay must be addressed."

Glorfindel nodded and they sat together comfortable and silent. Then Erestor leaned against Glorfindel, his face next to him. "What learned you of your own ennui?" he asked rubbing his forehead against Glorfindel's.

Glorfindel smiled sheepishly. "I find that I am vulnerable to sad eyes."

"Do I give to you sad eyes then?" Erestor said chuckling.

"Sometimes, when you think I am not looking. I see your kindness, Erestor and feel favored."

Erestor smiled and closed his eyes, the scent of his lover full upon him. "You are easy to favor," he whispered. "I am glad that you are here. No matter what the divide is, I feel that much better with you near."

Glorfindel smiled and rubbed his cheek against Erestor's soft dark hair. "Where do we stand, gwador?"

"Side-by-side as ever," Erestor said sighing. "I struggle with intimacy. I am not easily given to revelation about myself to anyone."

"So you say," Glorfindel replied smiling slightly.

Erestor smiled. "I use formality and you use humor but they achieve the same end result: distance."

"I trust you, Erestor with my very life," Glorfindel replied with conviction.

"And I, you, Glorfindel," Erestor replied.

"It is a start. Besides, you like my sense of humor. Admit it."

Erestor smirked. "Your ego emerges from the dismal swamp of your personality again, my friend. You must take care that it isn't snagged like a toad by some bog creature."

Glorfindel snorted and chuckled. "You have a sinuous tongue.

I love the convoluted paths down which your sarcasm treads. It gives me such mental images."

Erestor smiled slipping his arm through Glorfindel's. "One must take care with words. They carry power."

"So they do," Glorfindel agreed good-naturedly. "Soon we will beard the lion in his den. Denethor is a cold beast."

"So am I," Erestor said smiling slightly. "Perhaps we shall cancel each other out."

Glorfindel smiled. "I have other images in my mind, gwador. Your coldness is a facade. Should I enlighten you of moments when your heat singed me?"

"Not in front of the children," Erestor said dryly watching as one of the two Elves with them passed by on watch.

Glorfindel smiled. "Mirth becomes you, friend."

"And warmth, you," Erestor said softly stealing a kiss. "Do not underestimate that. It comforts me greatly."

Glorfindel nodded, a terrible tenderness informing him. "Then I am glad."

Erestor leaned in again, lingering on Glorfindel's lips. "Soon, in Gondor, we must test the waters again. You must turn your light on the Steward's sons. I fear Denethor may be going the way of Theoden and what ill that may bode for us all some day we must ascertain."

Glorfindel nodded. "I will be glad to hear the waterfalls of Rivendell once more."

"As will I, my friend," Erestor replied.

**********************In the King's House, Gondor ...

He stood in an archway nearby watching them with darkly inscrutable eyes. He had just ridden in from the wilderness, dust and mud clinging to his clothing. He wore green for the trail and weariness clung to him as well as curiosity. Elves were a rare sight in Gondor in these days.

Glorfindel studied him discreetly listening with divided attention to the Captain of the Citadel. They were to meet the Steward, entry being negotiated and soon they would leave the outer rooms for the sanctuary of Denethor. He turned more directly and the younger man shifted his feet, their eyes meeting. He nodded and Glorfindel nodded back, a slight smile on his lips. Then they were ushered inside a great chamber.

The room was lit by overhead windows and Denethor sat on an ornate chair, armed figures on each side of him. He was imperious and silent measuring them with his intense gaze as they came closer, their footsteps echoing around them. They both bowed and Erestor began explaining their journey and extending the greetings of their lord. Denethor nodded and rose, glancing at a fair-haired, tall and well-made man standing behind him.

"My son and heir, Boromir."

The big man nodded and they returned the acknowledgement, all of them turning together as the door opened. The muddied man from the corridor entered and walked to stand beside Denethor, turning and facing them nodding to Boromir. Glorfindel noted the likeness between them, the apparent warmth and was glad. This one must be Faramir he considered, watching discreetly from one side.

Denethor glanced at the youngster and then at his guests. "This is my youngest son, Faramir."

They nodded again and for a moment small talk was exchanged. Then Denethor summoned a servant. "Show our guests their chambers. We were preparing to dine. We invite you to join us."

"We would be honored," Erestor replied formally. He turned and with Glorfindel in tow followed the servant out the door.

They watched them go and Faramir turned to his father, stilling from the disapproval on his face. "You are late. What news of Osgiliath?"

Faramir swallowed, his face flushing and Boromir shifted a frown forming on his face. "Osgiliath is secured although orcs still manage to get through. The guard is sufficient thus far."

"In your opinion," Denethor asked coldly.

Faramir nodded averting his eyes. Denethor stared at him and then Boromir catching the severe disapproval in his eyes.

"Very well," Denethor replied. "Clean up. We have guests." He then turned and walked away, disappearing through a nearby door.

They watched him go, Boromir shaking his head. He turned to his brother concern on his face. Faramir paused and then sighed. "I must go wash up."

Boromir let him go, watching him walk away turmoil roiling in his gut. With a sigh, he turned himself following behind until he too was gone from sight.

After a long walk through corridors with people passing by, they reached a door at the end of a hall. "My Lords," the servant said pausing before the large wooden door. "Your chambers."

They nodded and entered, waiting until the door closed again. Glorfindel walked to the bed and sat, staring around the masculine and richly appointed room. Erestor turned letting out a pent-up breath, glaring at the door in anger. "Why do I believe that Denethor kicks his dog less than he does his son?"

"Observation?" Glorfindel replied dryly shaking his head sadly.

"The older one, he feels much affinity for his brother. It hurts him to see coldness given to his brother from his father." Erestor turned and looked at Glorfindel musing on things. "You have the ability to reach people, to know them. Faramir and Boromir are under pressure. It would behoove us to speak with them, especially with Boromir the heir."

Glorfindel nodded. "He is offended for his brother but he loves his father. Such is the old story. I detect steel in that one regarding his younger brother."

"Faramir appears resigned to his father's coldness. That offends me," Erestor said darkly. Glorfindel nodded. "What manner of man must he be living under such indifference?"

"One can only hazard," Glorfindel replied.

"It falls to you to ascertain the reality," Erestor said pacing once more. "I do not have the gifts you have in making a path among strangers. You have a way with 'warm eyes' and the carefully chosen word of comfort."

Glorfindel smiled. "Your back-hand salutes to my empathy amuse me."

Erestor paused his pacing and turned his eyes dark with emotion. "I esteem you greatly, as much as anyone I ever knew."

"I was in jest," Glorfindel replied gently. He rose from the bed and paused before Erestor sighing. "We are a pair."

"It is my wish that it is so," Erestor said softly. "You are most dear to me, my beautiful brother."

"And you to me," Glorfindel whispered kissing Erestor softly on the lips.

Erestor nodded. "These are strange people and strange lands. But I feel that great deeds will unfold here, deeds that will shake the world."

"I know. There is a dread that has suffused me for some time."

"Time," Erestor said irritation in his voice. "Is there time? Are we on the edge of some unseen precipice, the slightest breeze sending all we love and esteem over the brink? Does Elrond feel it, this doom? Is that why we are here, to gauge the days of peace that are left to us now?"

"I know not. That one's mind is inscrutable. He foresees much but more may be only a feeling, a prickling around the edges of thought and reason."

Erestor sighed, laying a hand on Glorfindel's chest. "I do not ask you what you do when you are alone. My affections are unwavering."

"And mine," Glorfindel replied his hand sliding tenderly up and down Erestor's arm.

"You seek passion," Erestor said resting his forehead against Glorfindel's cheek. "I know you need it."

"You give it to me, the best part of you," Glorfindel replied nuzzling Erestor's ear. "I have your private heart."

"Yes," Erestor replied sighing. "Is it enough?"

"Yes," Glorfindel replied pulling his partner closer.

"I am glad then," Erestor replied. "I feel whole in your company."

"And I, you," Glorfindel answered.

Their lips met soft and sweet, Glorfindel's arms pulling his partner into an embrace. They held each other, content and then a knock on the door shattered the solitude. Erestor sighed, stepping back, tugging his dignity back into place. Glorfindel smiled and turned. "Come."

The door opened and Faramir entered, tall, handsome, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Table is laid on. I am to bring you forth when you are ready."

Glorfindel smiled. "We are."

The youngster nodded, smiling at Glorfindel and stepped aside waiting for them to pass. They did and the door closed, the room falling silent once more. Outside the window, the sky began to darken as not so far away, the Enemy as ever watched.

=0=

In the Banqueting Hall ...

They sat at table with the Steward, his sons and a small handful of noble men from the household. It was curiously intimate yet the Steward being of a withdrawn and stern nature made relaxation difficult. Glorfindel sat on the left side of a nobleman, who sat next to the Steward. Faramir was across from him along with others and Erestor sat next to Boromir, both of them on the right side of Denethor.

Conversation dwelt on the travel from Rivendell, the curious splendor of the Golden Wood and the situation as it stood in Rohan. Business of the kingdom was slowly withdrawing contact with others and the news that they delivered was eagerly absorbed.

Glorfindel listened, detecting the undercurrent of tension that informed to household, finding among its major players much strain. Faramir was more silent than his brother, the elder son filled with questions and curiosity about their journey and about Elrond. His interest it appeared lay in that redoubtable lord's ability to reason through complex riddles and signs. Glorfindel filed that away, deciding should he get Boromir alone he would ask him about it.

Even as they sat together, he found his gaze ever returning to the fair haired and much less outgoing Faramir. He was tall like his brother and very sturdy in the way of Men. It was clear that he was from the stock of southern men of old and given to feats of strength and endurance. Yet, he also had within himself a spark of intelligence and grace, something lacking in certain levels of refinement in the others gathered.

Boromir was strong and more the norm to Glorfindel. He was a warrior and a good man, driven to serve his country and people and unafraid of consequences to himself in that service. Glorfindel detected concern for Denethor, a worry about the present situation and something else indefinable, concern vying with curiosity in his conversations. He questioned Erestor about Imladris and the House, the Lord therein and the ability of the Wise to foretell the future. Something was driving him, Glorfindel considered and this he would have to divine.

"You haven't eaten much," a soft voice spoke drawing his attention.

Glorfindel turned, meeting Faramir's gaze and he smiled shrugging slightly. "Your fare is most tasty but the conversation is even more delightful. I have spent time here in the past and find it as pleasant now as ever."

"I cannot imagine immortality. You have been here in the past seeing in reality those that are but names on a page to me. I find that fascinating."

Glorfindel smiled. "It has its advantages."

Faramir smiled, a thing of warmth and beauty. "You are a most understated fellow."

"I am glad to hear you say that," Glorfindel quipped. "There are those who would disagree."

Faramir smiled. "Your Lord, Elrond, I have grown up on tales of him and his family. I know they are based on reality and that somewhere in the world he lives but its hard to remember that when you look in the sky and see the evening star. To know that it is his father, Earendil takes furious work in ones thoughts."

Glorfindel smiled. "I can see your point. The world of the past intersects with the present, casting unreality in the unwary."

"Yourself included. Your combat with the balrog is well known among us," Faramir replied watching the slight shift of expression on the handsome figure's face. "You are that Glorfindel."

"Would that there was another," Glorfindel said smirking slightly. "It appears that my fame precedes me."

"That Glorfindel was killed defending his people," a nobleman replied staring at Glorfindel skeptically.

"We are not held to the same rules as Elves," Faramir replied fixing a reproving look at his companion. "They are outside the powers of mere life and death. Their options are much broader."

Glorfindel smiled. "I have this strange way sometimes of putting people into unease. Suffice it to say, I am glad to be here."

Faramir snorted and smiled broadly. "I would think given the options you would be glad to be anywhere."

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "You have a point."

"What brings you here?" the young nobleman asked watching the two banter. "What brings Elves to Gondor?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "Our lord bid us carry his wishes of good health and friendship to the Steward of Gondor and we have come here over many leagues to do so."

"Does this lord of yours, this lore master have any premonitions about our times such as would prompt him to send two such as yourselves to us?" he asked leaning forward on his elbows. "After all, his father sails the heavens in a swan ship, a Silmaril affixed to his brow. That makes him unique among us and therefore perchance privy to what may unfold among us."

Glorfindel considered his words, aware that Faramir's gaze was fixed on him. "My Lord Elrond is among the Wisest of the Wise but even they do not know all ends. He asked us to come here and give our respects to Gondor and her Steward. Perhaps that is all that this is. Perhaps there is more but maybe even he is not aware of it. I feel myself from my unique perspective that any contact among the free peoples of our world is a good thing."

"I am told among travelers from other lands that your people are leaving Middle Earth, that they are taking ships into the West to find refuge in the halls of the Valar. What means this to us that you would leave us now in the darkling years to battle the Enemy alone?" he persisted.

Glorfindel glanced at Erestor noting that all at the table had paused to listen. He sighed. "Our people are leaving. We have stood against the enemy for all the ages of the world to date. Many of us remain and will remain lingering with you in the forests and mountains that have been our home for all these long years. We have not deserted you and we will render assistance in times of need as ever. What the future brings, I know not. But I do know that I am here and will remain."

It was silent a moment and then Boromir sighed. "Alliances of old ... they kept us all alive and the Enemy at bay. I hope when the need comes that they hold."

"We must not assume that they won't," Erestor replied. He looked at the Steward, a look of distance on his face. "We are not unaware of what is happening to Gondor and Rohan. We will take the news back to our lord and see what can be done. Vigilance in the face of the gathering storm is necessary and prudent, necessary and prudent for all."

"Then you sense it too," Denethor replied. "The gathering storm you say. What do you propose to do about this, the end times that nip at our heels?"

"Whatever can be done," Erestor replied evenly. "We have not shirked our duty yet and I do not expect that we will in future. Our time is running out in these lands that we love but as long as we are here we stand with Men against the Darkness."

It was silent a moment and then Denethor nodded. Rising, he turned to them gazing at them one by one. "I would like to talk to you, Lord Erestor in private. I would like to know your thoughts further."

Erestor nodded and arose, the two turning and walking away together. Glorfindel sat staring at them until they disappeared, turning then to the table of men who sat staring at him. He smiled. Well, gentlemen ... what now?"

Faramir snorted and smiled. "I must attend to some things but I would desire a conversation with you later this evening if you would be so kind as to grant it."

"I would be honored," Glorfindel replied nodding.

The noblemen at the table rose with Faramir following him out the door. Boromir watched him go, a pensive expression on his face. Glorfindel watched him, measuring the big man as he did. "Your brother is much like you in appearance," Glorfindel ventured.

Boromir smiled and looked at him. "Faramir is more fair in looks and coloring. He is a good man, my brother. I love him dearly."

"That is very clear."

They sat quietly a moment and then Boromir arose, turning to Glorfindel. "Would you like to see the city from the balcony wall?"

"I would love to. It has been many ages of men since last I stood on the ramparts and watched the lights of the city."

Boromir smiled and they walked together to the door that led to the outside wall. The night was warm and the breeze balmy as they walked across the courtyard and climbed the stairs to the inner wall of the tower grounds. It was a spectacular view, the flickering lights of the city and far off villages twinkling in the velvet darkness.

Boromir rested his hands on the wall staring up at the stars. "The sky is beautiful. Ever have I stood here and looked up finding in the sky the perfection so missing here on the ground." He glanced at Glorfindel. "You must see more than I do, your years your guide. But I see the same sky that looks down on everyone equally and I wonder how their can be troubles in the world."

Glorfindel nodded. "I too." He moved to stand beside Boromir studying his profile. "Do you have a family? A wife and children?"

"No," Boromir said shaking his head. "There is no time for that, no future in this uncertain world."

"Eomer of Rohan told me the same thing," Glorfindel replied. "He seemed rage-filled and lonely. You strike me the same way."

Boromir gazed at him gauging him for a moment then looked away, staring at the night surrounding his city with emotion. "We are born to service, to do our duties and I will do it. I go and labor long and hard for Gondor, as does my brother. My father is not himself of late, filled with worries. It falls to me. I go and take care to do my best and I hope that it;s enough." Boromir paused swallowing hard. "It is a burden I will bear."

"But it is heavy and difficult," Glorfindel said gently.

Boromir smiled and turned, staring at him. "You are subtle, you are. You have a disarming way about you."

"So I have been told," Glorfindel replied smiling. "Perhaps it is my age. Perhaps I just feel compassion for those who suffer."

"Do you believe I suffer?" Boromir asked folding his arms before him as if hit by a sudden chill.

"I do," Glorfindel replied softly.

Boromir sighed. "I have my duty. That is what matters. In some later date when the world is safe and our people no longer suffer then I will take stock of myself."

Glorfindel nodded. "So I have seen men do all the days of my life. You are such noble creatures shouldering the burdens of your time with great heart. Even in the shortness of your span, you always move onward preserving the future as best you can."

"We must," Boromir said softly. "We cannot be the last of our line. My father expects me to be the next Steward. He needs for me to be the one. I shoulder it because it is what I must do."

"And if you had other hopes and dreams ... what would they be?"

Boromir glanced at him and paused, his arms falling as he put his hands on the wall once more. "I am a warrior. I am born to protect my people. Gondor is everything and I cannot fathom what I would not do to save her. I would always serve Gondor."

Glorfindel nodded turning to stand beside him once more, staring out at the night again. "It is a good place, Gondor. The days of the Kings of old linger in my heart. You have their spirit, Boromir. You do them justice with your heart."

For a moment, it was silent and then Boromir turned to him his eyes dark with emotion. "It crushes me sometimes," he whispered.

Glorfindel nodded. "I know."

"I was born in the wrong time," Boromir said. "To come at the end, to face the fall of all you love, I cannot bear it sometimes."

"You sense the end of things?" Glorfindel replied.

"I have ... dreams ... premonitions." He stood a moment silently and then he looked at Glorfindel measuring him once more. "I have a dream and there are words, words that I do not understand."

"What are they? Perhaps I would know something that might help you."

He stood silent a moment and then sighed. "There is darkness but for a small light and the words are called to me by a voice, who I know not:

"Seek for the sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall be counsels taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

"There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near to hand,

For Isildur's Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling forth shall stand."

It was silent a moment and then a movement caught their attention. "I have had that dream too," Faramir said stepping from the shadows himself.

=0=

"You haven't told me," Boromir said a frown on his face.

Faramir stepped closer, stopping next to Glorfindel. "I haven't had the time to tell. I only considered it a dream, nothing more. But now you say you have had it too?"

Boromir nodded. "A voice crying out to me."

"And to me," Faramir replied shaking his head. He turned to Glorfindel, the two standing next to each other. "What make you of this?"

Glorfindel considered his words for a moment and then sighed. "Some of it is clear to me. The sword that was broken is the sword of Elendil. It lies at Imladris, an heirloom of the House of Men long esteemed and kin to my lord. It is honored and preserved. Halflings I have heard of but I know not what they would do in your dream. It would appear that the road to understanding lies in Rivendell, in the knowledge and wisdom of Elrond. More I cannot say for certainty."

Faramir nodded and glanced at his brother, noting once again the worry that was now constant in his eyes and on his face. He felt the pain that was his companion when he considered his family, his father and his beloved brother. Things were out of hand now spinning to someone else's command. "I must go to Rivendell then," he said turning to Glorfindel. "I must seek the counsel of the Wise there."

"It is my place to take on this journey," Boromir said shaking his head. "You must stay. I'm oldest. I must go."

Faramir turned to Boromir, stilled by the fatigue that played on his brother's face. "We can talk later."

Boromir nodded, turning to the city once more. "It's coming to us, brother. There is an evil coiled out there that will stretch its talons and take us if it can."

Faramir moved to stand next to Boromir, resting his hand on Boromir's shoulder. "We will fight it," he said simply.

Boromir smiled and nodded leaning closer to his brother. "Together."

Faramir nodded glancing at Glorfindel. The tall Elf smiled, nodding to them and Faramir turned standing for a moment in silence with Boromir. "We won't be the end, Boromir. The Valar will not forsake us. I cannot believe that we are alone."

"I cannot believe that we are not," Boromir replied sighing deeply. He turned and looked at them both gathering himself together. "I am tired I think. I would hope, brother that you will be host to our guest in my stead."

Faramir nodded and watched as Boromir turned pausing for a second before Glorfindel. He nodded and walked on, disappearing from view as he climbed down the stairs and crossed the courtyard to the house. Glorfindel glanced at Faramir studying his face as he watched his brother leave. It was strained and worried, filled with concern.

"Your brother is much fatigued. Rest is what he needs now," Glorfindel said soothing words to troubled minds.

Faramir nodded turning to the wall resting his hands on the hard stone surface. "He is much aggrieved with my father. He is not himself of late, much distracted and tired. It falls mostly to Boromir. I try and help him, doing my part and more but things are difficult."

"The world is changing. I can feel it. I have been turned down myself of late."

Faramir sighed and nodded leaning against the wall. "I wonder how it came to us that we should stand against the enemy alone? I wonder if others in the past felt the hand of doom so clearly, that they feared nothing could aid them in the faltering of the world?"

"I can say so," Glorfindel replied. "There have been moments in the history of our world when even mighty effort appeared to fall to naught. We all have strived, some of us falling, yet we are still here. I find that hopeful."

Faramir smiled, relaxing slightly. "You have seen the world twice. I cannot fathom the glory days from which you first issued. It must be strange to stand here and see it all unfold again."

"I have seen it unfold many times," Glorfindel said leaning against the wall. He smiled. "Countless is the times the enemy strode forth only to dash himself against the will of his foes. I cannot believe that the valor of those who live now isn't equal to the task at hand."

Faramir sighed rubbing his hands. "I hope you are right," he said quietly. "I don't see much when I look into the future, so clouded by darkness it appears to be. It is good that you are here to remind us that we are not alone."

"You are not alone," Glorfindel replied softly watching Faramir's face. It was expressive and fine, eyes filled with maturity meeting his own. They stared at him a moment and then turned away shifting with his body as he turned to face the night. It was silent a moment and then Faramir turned again, his demeanor filled with debate. He stood a moment and then glanced at the hall, nodding. "I have some good wine and two glasses. I would ask that you be my guest."

Glorfindel nodded a smile on his lips and turned, following the youngster down the stairs and across the courtyard, entering the great house behind his host. It was quiet, a few people here and there but mostly deserted and they made their way to a room lined with bookshelves and along a tapestry-covered wall a table with wine bottles and glasses.

Faramir gestured to a chair before the fire, turning and pouring red wine for two. He walked to the fireplace where Glorfindel sat and handed him a crystal glass putting his own on a table. He tugged at his belt and pulled it off dropping it on the chair he was to sit in. Rubbing his arm, he sat and picked up his drink clinking glasses with Glorfindel before sipping.

"Are you injured?" Glorfindel asked.

"I have a small injury but it will heal," Faramir replied. "I really should watch where I ride. I received a cut on my arm."

"You should let me see it. I have much experience healing such," Glorfindel replied.

Faramir started to speak and then stopped setting his glass down. Rising, he unfastened his jacket, dropping it into the chair and sat, tugging at the ties on his tunic. Pale flesh was exposed and then a reddish jagged line sewn with a fine thread to close a deep wound. Glorfindel rose and took Faramir's arm, gently moving his fingers over the reddish flesh with great gentleness.

Faramir sat quietly, his eyes on the fire and made no indication that he was in pain. Glorfindel looked around and sighed. "I would need water and a clean cloth and perhaps some things from my luggage that will form a poultice that will draw the heat from your wound."

Faramir nodded and rose, the two taking their glasses and together they left the room and walked down the corridor heading for the chambers that belonged to Glorfindel. They entered and Glorfindel removed a pouch, turning to his patient with a slight smile. "Your rooms or mine?" he asked noting the ghost of a smile on the younger man's face.

"I have a brazier in my rooms. There will be warm water there," Faramir replied.

Glorfindel nodded and they turned again, moving through the warren of corridors until they reached Faramir's chamber. Entering, he walked to the bed and dropped his jacket putting his glass down on a small table. He turned and walked into his bathing chamber leaving Glorfindel alone for a moment.

He stood sipping his wine and looked around, noting the personal belongings of the quiet youngster who had brought him here. There were books everywhere and a much used writing table, indications of his interests in learning and correspondence. Weapons hung on the wall, a very long bow of Gondorian design and a sword hanging in a well-worn scabbard. The furniture was like his own, solid and wooden, carved and ornamented in an understated way.

The bed that dominated the room was large and looked as if it had not been slept in for some time, the coverings rich and well made. Tapestries of myths hung on the wall and a small table held a basin for washing up. All-in-all, it was the room of a well-rounded and complicated individual.

Faramir stepped back into the room, a kettle of hot water in his hands. He poured it into the basin and set the kettle on the floor placing himself and a couple of soft white cloths on the bed. "When you are ready," he said his curiously deep and textured voice even as he watched the golden-haired figure before him.

Glorfindel smiled and set his glass on the basin stand, testing the water with his fingers. He took some herbs from the bag in his hand and put them into the water, stirring them even as he murmured softly.

"What do you cast into the water? Spell and herb? Something from long ago days?" Faramir asked his curiosity rising.

Glorfindel smiled and glanced at him, watching as the water swirled. "I put words into water, Faramir of Gondor and call upon many things most inscrutable to heal your arm in the shortest time possible. It is something I learned over many ages of strife." He turned and held out his hand, watching with a grin as Faramir tossed him a cloth. He dipped it in the water and wrung it out, turning and moving to sit next to the youngster. With meticulous care, he began to bathe it, making sure he didn't disturb the stitches.

"Nice needlework. Your hand?" he asked grinning slightly.

"My second-in-command," Faramir replied smiling slightly. "He's very handy with sharp pointed implements."

"So it would seem. Your scar will be intricate and very comely. I am sure women everywhere will demand a recounting of your great deeds when they see it."

Faramir smirked and sighed. "There is no time for women these days."

"There must be something in men that I do not comprehend. It might even be something in the water. Eomer of Rohan has no time for women and neither does your brother. Now you say the same. It must be a 'man notion' that I do not grasp."

Faramir chuckled and shook his head. "There is nothing wrong with the fair sex but the ties of family are not to be taken lightly in times such as this."

"There are always 'times such as this', young one," Glorfindel gently chided. "What do you do for comfort? Hug your horse?"

Faramir smiled broadly and shook his head. "You find comfort where you can. I am a warrior. I find comfort in the company of my companions."

"Ah," Glorfindel replied walking and rewetting the towel. He returned and sat holding the hot wet cloth against Faramir's arm. "So, on the trail on those dark and lonely nights you find comfort in the arms of your companions."

"You speak as if you either know and disapprove, or as if you are shocked," Faramir replied glancing into Glorfindel's amused eyes. "But there must be nothing that surprises you, one who has seen all the ages of the world and lived to tell the tale. Twice."

Glorfindel snorted and smiled broadly. "I am not surprised by much, young one. But I have no disapproval of where you find what you can to hold back the darkness. It is the way of warriors to be close as brothers. And closer. It is so with my own kind."

Faramir sighed and looked away. "I have no time for the love of women for now. I am filled with dread over the future. I fear for my father and brother, for the city and her people. I can only go to the light of someone's embrace when the burdens and expectations that are cast upon me are expended as best I can. I cannot let it all fall on my brother."

"I understand," Glorfindel said nodding. "Yet, it would not help anyone should you find yourself worn before your time from the burden of your responsibilities."

Faramir stared at his hands silently for a moment. "I know."

Glorfindel rose and walked to the basin, putting the clean towel into its warm waters. He strained the herbs that floated in the water and packed them into the cloth. Folding it several times, he turned and walked to Faramir tying it firmly into place over the wound. Rising, he stared down measuring the fatigue in the youngster with expert eyes. "You are weary."

"I am," Faramir agreed, suddenly very tired.

Glorfindel considered him and then moved to sit beside him turning him with his hands. Faramir shifted and sat, flinching with surprise as Glorfindel's hands gripped his shoulders.

"Sit still," Glorfindel whispered, beginning with skill and care to work the knots from the youngster's shoulders. He sighed groaning slightly as Glorfindel worked on tight muscles. Then the Elf rose. "Stand and remove your shirt. I would give to you some relief from your tension."

Faramir rose and shucked his shirt dropping it on the floor. Turning, he paused, uncertain what to do. "Lie on your stomach," Glorfindel said smiling slightly.

Flushing slightly, Faramir complied closing his eyes as he did. Glorfindel moved gently straddling the youngster and stared at him noting his pale skin and broad shoulders. He was well muscled like a bowman and dusted with freckles. Glorfindel smiled and leaned down beginning with firm intent to unwind the tightly wound main spring of the young man lying before him.

Faramir grunted and groaned, feeling pain and relief mingle as the tension in his shoulders slowly began to recede. Strong hands, skilled hands worked his muscles and he felt the first drift of contentment settle upon him that he had experienced in days. "That feels wonderful."

"I know," Glorfindel replied smiling. "I can make you feel much better. Relax and let me, Faramir."

"Yes," the youngster whispered sighing.

For several minutes, Glorfindel labored and by the time he reached the lower spine his patient was sleeping peacefully. He paused and reached forward stroking Faramir's brow gently with his fingers. Words of power, words of comfort echoed through his mind as he put a light sleep into the tired mind of his charge. Rising carefully, he pulled a blanket over the slumbering youngster and turned walking quietly to the door. Looking back herb bag in hand, he smiled slightly and then with great care silently let himself out of the room.

************************Later that night ...

Erestor slipped into bed moving closer to the sleeping figure next to him. Lying back, he stared at Glorfindel's profil, the beloved outline of his lover's soul. He had sat for many hours talking to Denethor and so the two had not spoken since dinner.  
He stared at the ceiling considering their long journey northwest as they were leaving Minas Tirith the next day. It couldn't come too soon Erestor thought considering the situation at hand. Denethor was preoccupied and his sons were holding the kingdom together. Something was wrong and he couldn't put a finger on it. Perhaps Glorfindel would know. Perhaps not. At least for now he was where Erestor wanted him lying by his side in the same bed. With a contentment he hadn't felt in hours, Erestor of Imladris closed his eyes.

=0=

"You left without a word."

Glorfindel nodded smiling slightly. "You were sleeping so well I was loathe to wake you."

Faramir nodded gazing out into the courtyard. The emissaries of Imladris were preparing to leave, the sky above them streaking with the rays of the rising sun. "I have enjoyed your company."

"And I, yours," Glorfindel replied. He turned and looked across the courtyard, at the long and rolling land that they would be crossing. "Will you be coming to our fair valley? To have the Lord therein interpret your dream?"

"I will seek such a venture," Faramir replied. "Although my brother will no doubt do likewise." Faramir glanced at him.  
"He is that sort of person. He would not give to others what he himself is not prepared to do."

Glorfindel nodded. "And you, Faramir? What sort of person are you?"

Faramir shrugged and glanced away. "A faithful son of Gondor."

"That is most evident."

Faramir smiled, a slightly bitter thing. "You have insight. I wished ..."

Glorfindel waited, noting the struggle on the youngster's face, and then it vanished. "You have pain."

"We all do in these latter days," Faramir replied with a sigh. "Who among us walks through the days without their own private burdens?" He smiled slightly. "Who but you would know that better than all?"

Glorfindel smiled, nodding. "Who but me." He moved closer, their arms brushing as they turned to gaze into the distance. The land disappeared into the morning mist obscuring the great plain much beyond them. "This is a beautiful land. Gondor's men are an interesting lot. You in particular. You have wisdom as well as valor. That is a rare mix in Men if my memory serves me."

Faramir chuckled. "I must defer to your greater wisdom on such considerations. I do not have the years to make such conclusions."

"You will have years I think," Glorfindel ventured. "You will have time."

"Do you think so?" Faramir asked turning troubled eyes on his companion. "I fear otherwise. But I know I will serve Gondor with my last breath. I fear for the loss of her greatness, her beauty and her wisdom. We have lost so much over the years, all the hope in the world cannot undo that. But I dream of better days."

"We all do," Glorfindel replied resting his hand on the youngster's shoulder. "How is your wound?"

"Well on its way," Faramir replied smiling at his benefactor. "I do not know what magic you worked but it is closed this morrow and I feel very little pain."

"Good," Glorfindel replied with a smile. It was silent a moment and Glorfindel studied the face of his companion, the reddish hue to his lashes and hair, the fairness of his skin. "I have known few with red hair. It is not common among my kind. In fact it is extremely rare. It suits you and your brother."

Faramir smiled, turning to face Glorfindel. They were very close and Glorfindel felt the heat of the other. "You are kind."

"You are worthy of kindness."

"You have a comforting manner," Faramir replied sighing. "I will miss that."

Glorfindel smiled. "You are easy to care for."

Faramir snorted and grinned shaking his head. "I do my best."

"That is all you have to do," Glorfindel gently reminded resting his hand on the youngster's shoulder. Faramir was tall, nearly as tall as himself and very close. He leaned in and brushed his lips against the youngster lingering on the soft silk of Faramir's mouth. "That was very easy to do," he replied when he finally leaned back.

"And easy to take," Faramir said his eyes brimming. He leaned in and kissed Glorfindel savoring him as he did. Glorfindel kissed him back, sighing. Behind them in the courtyard the sound of voices distracted them and they turned staring down at figures  
emerging from the great house including Erestor. They glanced at each other and nodded gripping each other's hand tightly. Then Glorfindel turned and walked to the stairs gliding quickly down to where his horse stood waiting. He sprung lightly upon its back and turned looking up to where he had come.

Faramir stood alone on the balcony. He watched as the party gathered and then waved. Glorfindel waved back, pausing and then followed the others out the gate of the courtyard. He felt the burden of emotion oppress him and he concentrated on his horse as the King's House disappeared.

Faramir watched Glorfindel leave, the quiet interlude of their meeting warm to his heart. He sighed and turned catching the concerned face of his brother. Pausing, he watched as Boromir stepped forward coming to stand beside him on the balcony. "Are you all right?" he asked scrutinizing his brother carefully.

"Yes," Faramir replied nodding.

Boromir sighed and squeezed Faramir's hand. "Let us ride to the river," he said noting the tension in his brother's face. "We have not been there for a while."

Faramir smiled nodding. "No. We haven't, have we."

"We haven't done a lot of things together of late," Boromir replied shaking his head. "For a few minutes put the world aside. Let us go to the river today."

"I would like that," Faramir said turning with his brother to stare out over the walls of the city. They stood together side-by-side as in the distance the visitors from Imladris faded from sight.

***************Late that same night...

The stars were thick overhead as they lay together Glorfindel spooned behind his lover. Erestor hadn't demurred when the Elf had laid down behind him, something he usually did in such an exposed place. He hadn't protested when the Elf moved close to him pressing himself along his back slipping an arm around his waist. He had lain quietly enduring without comment the struggle for Glorfindel to get comfortable. When at last that had been achieved Glorfindel sighing deeply in his ear, Erestor almost smiled. "Are you finished, Glorfindel?" he asked the acid in his tone toxic.

"Not quite," Glorfindel replied sliding his hand into Erestor's trousers. He rummaged around until he found what he wanted, squeezing it until he heard Erestor hiss. "Now I am."

"Your hand is in my trousers," Erestor whispered irritation in his voice.

"So it is," Glorfindel replied good-naturedly. "What else is in your trousers if I may be so bold?"

"No!" Erestor whispered groaning slightly as Glorfindel took inventory. "You are a low life brigand."

"And you are a prudish virgin," Glorfindel replied nuzzling Erestor's neck. "Well, perhaps not a virgin."

Erestor tried to ignore the pleasure rising in his body as he concentrated on his wrath but it was a losing proposition.  
Glorfindel quite literally had the upper hand. "What are you assuming you will do with this untenable situation?"

"I have not ridden my favorite steed in some time," Glorfindel began grinning wickedly at the imagery he was spinning, more than aware of the effect it usually had on his lover. "You know what they say about mounts. If you do not ride them they get feisty." He could feel the heated disdain rising from Erestor and so he leaned over and nuzzled his ear. "Do you feel feisty, Erestor?"

The glacial tone was unmistakable when Erestor replied lying quietly in Glorfindel's grasp. "You are beyond help, Glorfindel."

"*You* are a comely wench and I desire you. Are you against such being possible in my old and rapidly beating heart?"

"Your heart is a fickle thing, old one. You have your lusts motivate you for younger flesh even as you attempt to seduce me into giving you access to that which I hold in high repute."

"*I* hold you in high repute," Glorfindel retorted his voice dripping with barely felt reproach. "I hold your legs in great repute, your soft round ass in the greatest regard, your mouth ... it is like unto a honey pot."

Erestor snorted in spite of himself. "You poetry as always is deeply lacking even the most rudimentary skills and ability. I suppose you think that reciting such to me will make me give to you that which you seek."

"I know it will," Glorfindel replied chuckling. "You love my poetry."

"I do not," Erestor replied willing the rising tide of desire emanating from his loins to recede.

It was silent a moment and then Glorfindel sighed tragically, smiling. "You are like unto the yew tree, your green leaves shimmering in the sunlight of the May morning. I see in your elbows limbs as fine as ..."

"As what, o Bard of Imladris?" Erestor opined sarcastically. "How are my limbs, Glorfindel? My green leaves shimmering?"

Glorfindel snorted and chuckled. "I would say your limbs are mighty fine. Especially when they are wrapped around my waist. I especially enjoy your green leaves at that moment, o precious and most dear yew tree."

Erestor smiled in spite of himself. "You would like that would you not to climb my limbs and bows."

"I crave it. Like bears crave honey. Like water flows to the sea," Glorfindel said shifting his grip on Erestor's most tender bits. A groan and uneasy shifting drove home his victory and Glorfindel sucked the tender skin of Erestor's neck savoring his incremental advancement to his ultimate goal.

"More poetry. If you wish to achieve nirvana you must give me honeyed words to pave the way."

Glorfindel snorted. "We do appear to have honey on the mind." Glorfindel smiled wickedly. "I hear that it makes entry into heaven a less difficult chore when applied liberally."

"You will *not* be putting honey in my bum," Erestor replied. "It is all I can do to allow you to put your manhood there."

Glorfindel chuckled. "You enjoy it greatly. I hear your groans and your panting, your exhortations for me to gallop with vigor ... it's quite an exhilarating experience. You have to agree."

"I have to agree with nothing, Glorfindel," Erestor sniffed shifting so that the other's hand could move with greater freedom in the confines of his trousers. "I may enjoy the occasional romp but extended gallops are an acquired taste."

"Which you have taken to heart," Glorfindel pressed a smile in his voice. "I do recall the time when you gave up your maidenhood to me in the gallery of our great lord and patron that late night not so long ago."

Erestor felt the color rising in his cheeks, the memory of being taken over a high backed chair, Glorfindel's reflection in the mirror in front of them nearly sending him in a swoon as he watched, filling his mind. It was reckless and exhilarating even as the other had said but his reticent nature prevented him from letting Glorfindel know how much. He sighed, regretting his lack of outward show. The other more than compensated he considered as he turned with effort and faced his lover. "You are an impossible beast," Erestor said softly leaning toward his lover.

Glorfindel lay back his arms pulling Erestor onto his body. They kissed softly, lying together in tender regard. "You are an impossible prude."

"Perhaps. Perhaps I am merely the first person you have desired that has standards."

Glorfindel laughed, his voice loud and clear in the dark night around them. He clenched Erestor's butt gripping it tightly. The look of pleasure mingled with consternation on the other's face made him smile. "You enjoy what we do together to a great degree. You never deny me and of late, you have been demanding what you will as well. That part is undeniable."

Erestor stared down into his lover's face feeling capitulation falling sharply into place. "And so are you, my beautiful brother," Erestor said leaning down to the soft lips that he craved so much.

Glorfindel rolled over, strong legs wrapping themselves around him as overhead the stars wheeled through the night making their inexorable way toward the Gates of Morning and the beginning of another day on Middle-earth.

=0=

"You have not said much about Lord Denethor," Glorfindel asked riding in companionable silence beside his lover.

Erestor sat his horse, his mind a long way from the moment. He turned fixing a questioning expression upon his partner. "Did you say something?"

"I had asked for your impressions of Denethor. But if you are still recovering from my rather thorough exploration of your nether regions from last night I will understand."

The look of disdain and regal contempt that formed on Erestor's exotic and marvelous features was breathtaking and Glorfindel stared at him with intellectual admiration and deep feral lust. The Elf had been an animal in his arms the night before when finally warmed to the moment. Glorfindel had held his hand over Erestor's mouth sparing him the embarrassment of alerting their sentries to his imminent and explosive orgasm.

"Ah yes, your great and consummate skill as a lover ... let me see ... I do remember vaguely rough hands and much guttural squealing. Am I close?"

Glorfindel smirked looking at him with a sideways glance. "I remember a lot of delicious animal noises issuing from your ruby lips until I took the gracious and necessary step of stopping your mouth with my hand thereby sparing you of the disconcerting prospect of much sniggering among the young ones accompanying us."

Erestor turned to stare ahead his face flushing. He sighed. "You are a man of great appetites, my beloved brother. Surely your sojourn in the shrouded Halls of Mandos has left you vulnerable to pale thighs and red lips and much exaggerated mastery over both."

A lustful jolt issued through Glorfindel and he grinned. "You are most descriptive this morrow," he said moving his horse closer. "And who would you be describing but your own legs and lips?"

"You assume that I have more than your fields to frolic in, my beloved friend. There are more Elves under sun and moon than just you."

"But few who can make you swoon with the single touch of a hand," Glorfindel insisted whispering to Erestor as he rode. "Few can make you beg for caresses, weeping tears of joy at the merest touch the way I inevitably do. Say it is not so."

Erestor fixed an icy stare on the smirking face of his lover. "It is not so."

Glorfindel roared with laughter hooting as Erestor's horse shied.

"You are frightening the horses, you carnal bastard. Get yourself under control or I will deny you entrance into the halls of love and desire for the duration of our trip."

Glorfindel snorted. "You, lore master can deny me nothing. Tell me in your own honeyed tongue what it means to you to be loved by one such as me."

Glorfindel smirked as he watched the flow of emotions pass over Erestor's aristocratic visage. He was amused, appalled and filled with desire and a sense of playfulness that only Glorfindel could extract from his buttoned-down personality. He fixed an arch expression on his partner. "You wish me to recite words of love and poetry to you, oh master of the rut? In what meter would you wish I declare my gratitude that you desire to explore my own gilded halls?"

"Any you chose, master of myth and legend," Glorfindel retorted smirking with self-assurance. "You do have poetry, Erestor. You show it to me each time I lay with you. The goodness of your heart is but incidental to the magnificence of your body in full disarray."

Erestor snorted. "Rutting on the ground, groping in the dark whilst all around the wild beasts watch in startled amusement is hardly the stuff of poetry."

"You are," Glorfindel replied easily. "I find myself groping for words even as I grope for you."

Erestor sighed, a huge smile forming at long last on his face. "You have me at a disadvantage when we lie together. I must agree that the pleasures you coax from me, albeit against my better nature are most delightful. They make me want more and ever more. But I must say that your penchant for such exploratories in the most public of places worries and vexes  
me."

"You never say no and I wait to hear it. Long have I told you that you have that much control over my actions even in the  
throes of lust."

"As you repeatedly have expressed," Erestor agreed nodding. "However, when I am on my hands and knees, your hands making short work of my own objections I find it hard to marshal anything short of exhortations to continue. Of course, you are most aware of this and make ever greater the need of my own desires."

"I concede that you are a volcanic creature all crusted on the outside but shimmering with heat and fire within. I climb your slopes with lust and trepidation, my beautiful brother more than aware that even the reluctant release of your molten desires can be fatal to my own intentions to be good."

"So I have noticed," Erestor said smiling slightly. "But then, I have not asked you to be good."

"No," Glorfindel replied smiling. "At least not regarding intentions. In actions upon which I excel mind you, your initial disdain is always won over to pleadings and much thrashing around. Would you not agree then that I am good for you?"

"I do not agree," Erestor replied easily. "But I will not deprive you of what small self esteem you have cobbled together in your long and distinguished life. You did in fact slay the balrog, '*that* Glorfindel'."

He grinned willing the image away. "It does impress the younger wenches does it not?"

"It does," Erestor agreed amiably.

"You have not expressed your considerations about my ... warm and winning manner as it results in affections among others. You are quite a clam on that topic."

"I have told you that I do not wish to know what you do when alone. I do know that I am not your bound and lawful spouse and that we have no covenants between us. Therefore as you are a lusty and vagabond individual you are entitled to wench to your hearts content."

"You are most forthright," Glorfindel replied shaking his head. "You speak as if you have no call upon my body or my heart."

"I have what I have, my beautiful brother. I take what you give me with great joy but I am not your spouse and will not dictate to you the limitations of your own desires. That is for you to wrestle with."

"And for you to exhibit desire for others ... I am not bound to extract promises from you?"

"We have not given them to each other, Glorfindel," Erestor replied quietly. He turned a serious and thoughtful gaze upon his partner. "Maybe on this side of the Sundering Sea there cannot be promises given. Perhaps it will require another shore in another place for truths to be spoken and vows given."

Glorfindel sighed staring ahead. "I have been on the shores of the Beloved and Blessed Realm. It is a different world there, one of peace and healing. Whatever ails your soul, may it find consolation there so that you can come across the void that separates you from your desires and happiness."

"You come close to bridging this darkness for me, this unexplainable and disturbing void in my heart. I have studied it long and well and find no words to speak of it, but it is there. You are the light in the darkness for me, brother. For that there are no words."

Glorfindel nodded sighing. "I am then thoroughly glad."

They rode together quietly the sun climbing in the sky as the miles fell behind them and the great mountains ahead loomed. The breeze cooled the heat of the land when they paused glancing at the winding path they would follow. Erestor watched as Glorfindel led the way waiting as the others joined him. Together side-by-side they continued.

"Denethor is a cold man, Glorfindel," Erestor mused. "He wished to know of doings in all lands, in the Elf lands and beyond. He asked alot of questions about Saruman and Theoden, much pointed to some gathering doom in future days. He seems distracted and much inwardly directed and has little esteem for his sons beyond Boromir. He is impatient with the younger, a youngster made independent by his wisdom and searching mind. It annoys Denethor I believe to have a son that needs and seeks so little of his wisdom."

"I am sure," Glorfindel replied. "Faramir is a good man, wise and decent. He will serve his father with determination and skill, giving his days and his blood to the protection of his country. He much admires his brother, esteeming him nearly above all others. I am gratified to see that they are close."

"As am I," Erestor replied. "I detect the chill of loneliness in the countenance of Faramir, the desire for a father's love that may never come to him. It is sad, their days are so limited."

"Indeed. He seeks his father's approval but has little, yet not begrudging his brother the warmth of love his father cannot give to him." It was silent a moment and then Erestor shifted on his horse's back leaning slightly toward his partner. "We come to the Ford of Isen, the stronghold of the White Wizard. What say you that we pay a short visit to that redoubtable one, seeing in his countenance if the fears of many are justified. He is much remarked about in all the halls of lords on our journey. No one is clear on what his game is now."

Glorfindel nodded. "We must stop but not stay. I am not comfortable around him and have not been for some time. There is an unsavory air about him."

Erestor nodded. "I agree. A short stop, a chat in the courtyard and then we will be gone hying ourselves to Imladris with speed. I long for my own bed and board."

"As do I," Glorfindel said with a sigh. A grin slowly spread. "I find it much easier plumbing your depths, my beautiful brother in the confines of a down bed. Rocks make poor mattresses."

"And so do chairs," Erestor retorted smirking slightly. He looked at Glorfindel and shook his head. "Light and dark, cool and warm. We are opposites to each other, my brother. Perhaps that is the attraction."

"Perhaps," Glorfindel allowed. "And then again perhaps you underestimate yourself once more."

Erestor regarded him and glanced away staring ahead for a moment. Then he turned, his eyes meeting Glorfindel solemnly. "You are good for me, my friend. Never ever forget what you mean to me."

Glorfindel nodded smiling slightly. "And you for me."

They continued on, the mountains rising in the distance. The time would pass, comfortable and companionable before they would reach the cold and rushing waters of the Isen. Crossing carefully, they turned toward the mountain where the glittering tower of Isengard stood sentinel. In the confines of the tower courtyard they would converse with the wizard and eventually move on toward the mountains.

****************Elsewhere ...

"You are late for dinner," a soft voice spoke drawing his eyes ever from the business of his study. He sat back in his chair regarding the figure of his most beloved standing in the shadows of the doorway. "I am sorry," he murmured watching as the tall figure traversed the room pausing before him. He reached out, taking a strong pale hand into his own. Raising it to his lips he kissed it, his eyes never leaving the blue ones that regarded him so keenly.

"Come," Legolas said tugging his lover to his feet. "Then we can walk along the river and you can tell me the cares of your day."

"With you, melme," Elrond whispered kissing Legolas softly on the lips. "I have few."

"Good," Legolas said smiling as they turned walking hand-in-hand to the door.

The room was silent once more, the gentle breeze of evening ruffling the flowers in a vase nearby. The stars overhead shown down on many shores, a sparkling accompaniment to the world far below ...

...along the riverside ...

"The river is so wide here," Faramir sighed tossing a rock into its dark surface.

"All the more protection for our people," Boromir replied smiling at his brother. "You seem pensive, brother. Tell me of your thoughts."

"Things are rising in the east," Faramir replied. "It is nothing specific."

"The Elves, they were good for you?" Boromir asked.

Faramir smiled. "The golden-haired one, Glorfindel, he was comforting."

"That is good," Boromir replied. "Elves are something outside of my experience. I do not seek them for companionship but their wisdom is not to be denied. We must talk to our father of our dream, brother and seek in the West the solution."

Faramir nodded knowing full well that Boromir would win the burden of the search. For now, it was all he could hope for to stand on the bank of the river warm in the companionship of his noble heart. Soon Boromir would be leaving and it would fall to him to be valiant alone. He hoped as they stood together that he would be up to the great task at hand...

...on the rolling plains of Rohan ...

"They came this way," a man said rising from the grass where he knelt. Turning, he looked at the big figure seated on a great horse scanning the horizon before them.

"Orcs," Eomer said anger in his voice. "They infest this land. Come," he said, gazing down at the Rohirrim standing before him. "Mount up. We will track them down and destroy them." He waited as the man mounted his horse and looked back at his men who crowded around him eagerly. "Let's ride!" he shouted and they wheeled as one riding in the direction of the fleeing enemy. They would find them at sundown and there would be no one left to take the tale to Isengard.

**********Midday, some time later ...

They sat their horses, four Elves traveling through strange country. Beyond them, dark as a stiletto against the mountains surrounding it Isengard pierced the landscape like a giant lance. Glorfindel mused on it, feeling a strange menace issuing from its foreboding confines. They would ride down, pausing if they would in the courtyard of the tower. Then they would leave without staying once their visit was concluded.

"A courtesy call," Erestor murmured glancing at his companion. "That is all it will be."

Glorfindel nodded loosening the sword he wore in its scabbard. "That is all," he replied.

Then without another word, they rode forward beginning the slow and careful ride along the highway that led to the tower beyond.

=0=

This is not the Isengard that comes to memory."

They paused before the statues that lined the long corridor, a road that ran in a straight line to the tower and its courtyard beyond. The air was still, no breeze stirred and ever they felt a disquiet among them.

"I do not think that this is a good idea," Glorfindel began his mental alarms ringing. They were keen from a lifelong of bitter experience and he listened to them now as he always had. "I do not think we need stop."

Erestor looked at him and at the two young Elves who were their companions who sat nervously beside them staring at the two as they wrestled with their decision. Around them, the forest had been taken trees cut and carted off to be used for what they didn't know. Smoke poured from the citadel beyond, hidden in their true purposes by the high wall that surrounded it.

"Let us go wide round this place. The menace is high here." Glorfindel tapped his horse with his heels leading the way and the others followed close on his tail as he drew his sword from his scabbard.

They moved from the road and headed into rough country paralleling the path that normally they would have trod. They were silent together none of them daring to provoke their own recognition by the unnamed menace of the tower beyond. It took many slow miles before they skirted the complex, their pace picking up as they continued onward. Rivendell was nearer and they were ever excited to make their way home skipping their planned stay at the tower.

************Lothlorien ...

She paced, her mind filled with complexities as she ruminated upon the pictures she had seen in the pool. Visions of a future disturbed by war came ever frequently and she felt a tinge of dread when she turned to the water seeking in it something to ease her mind. But it wasn't to happen, the ease she sought. Things were happening and she knew that the end of things as they always were was bound to change once more. Change always came, as ever on the point of a spear and even as she conceded that she was filled with loathing over the idea of war once more.

She remembered the earliest days of her life, the days in heaven with her family. Her own yearning for experience had driven her naively east to sojourn in the lands of the beginning of days. She had not been levied with the ban but when it had been lifted her own pride kept her away from her rightful home, that and the love of her wood. She stayed here offering wisdom to those in need even as she pined for the memory Doriath and the haven to her heart that the friendship and guidance of Melian had been in the long years following her arrival.

A feeling caught her more than sound and movement and she turned staring into the grave eyes of her husband. He moved closer reaching out his hand. "You are fearful tonight. What brings you to this state?"

"An unnamed dread," she answered moving to take his hand into her own. She stepped with him over the green grass and up the winding stairs to the talan where they lived. Entering the well-loved rooms, Celeborn paused staring around him. "This haven will fall someday. It will fade from the memory of men and exist no more. I will find that hard to bear."

"As do I," Galadriel replied with a sigh. "The time is coming when the Doom of us all awakens, if it has not done so already."

"Then it all falls to the frail and the small, for the great deeds of great men will be as nothing," Celeborn said softly. He turned to his wife considering her forlorn expression. "Let us not dwell on things that are beyond our powers. We have done all we could and we will continue to do so. In short time the battle for our world will begin. We can help a little but the outcome is for others to decide."

She nodded and stepped forward embracing him tightly. "I know," she whispered gazing at him with troubled eyes. "There will be much driven asunder including you and I. I pray that you will in the long last moments of the end come to me in the lands beyond the sea should I find my way from the darkness at last."

He smiled and nodded. "I will linger here I think but the day will come when the choosing is to be made. I will take the young ones and come to you. For even though I love this shore, that much more I love you."

She smiled and hugged him the two standing together as the dappled light of the trees all around them played on the gold, green and silver walls of their home.

**********Rivendell ...

"There it is, the Ford of Rivendell," Glorfindel said, a broad grin on his face.

"At long last," Erestor sighed shaking his head. "I need a bath."

"You do," Glorfindel said tapping the sides of his horse. He passed Erestor with a grin and moved down the slope heading for the wide and shallow ford to the river that guarded their home.

Erestor watched him go and sighed, smiling slightly. "Look who is talking," he whispered as he rode haughtily past the amused and weary youngsters who had come with them on the journey.

**********The Gate of the White City ...

Boromir sat his horse staring at the younger version of himself holding the reins of his horse. He smiled and leaned down clasping the arm of his brother tightly. "Take care and farewell, Faramir," Boromir said quietly. "I will miss you on my journey but perchance we can bring back hope and good fortune for our people during my sojourn among the Fair Folk."

Faramir nodded and stepped back watching as his brother rode off shield at his back, hopefulness in his heart. As he stood there he had no idea that he would never see his brother alive again.

***********In the Hall of the Horse Lords ...

He watched with growing disquiet the slithering of Grima around the skirts of his sister. Fatigue had gripped him, the details of security ever drawing him away. He watched her snap at him and felt better knowing Eowyn was no ones fool. Tonight, they would talk and make sure that they were together in their purposes and needs. She would be alone without his protection for a while as he rode with his men along the western half of Rohan. Theodred was out there now doing his best with his own forces. Together, they were the backbone of the resistance to the growing threat from the west.

Eowyn rustled away leaving Grima alone and when he was Eomer stepped from the shadows glowering his formidable menace to the dark-robed figure who stared at him fear on his face. Grima turned and walked away disappearing into the house. Eomer considered him and turned away dreading the day that he would have to choose: letting Grima live or risking his uncle's life by cutting the bastard's throat. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway once more.

******At the Last Homely House in the West ...

He entered, his boots clomping on the floor in his weariness. Pausing, he gripped the arm of Legolas the youngster meeting him as he crossed the threshold. "Mae govannen, Glorfindel," he said glancing around the tall Elf. "Mae govannen, Erestor."

Erestor smiled and nodded. "Mae govannen, Legolas. Is the Lord of the House about?"

"He is in his study as ever. We are most happy to see you both return from the lands of men and others."

"And others. How aptly put," Glorfindel replied with a chuckle  
watching as Erestor began to climb the stairs to the second floor. He turned to Legolas clapping his arm. "Tell me much as I soak my grime. I am out of the loop of news here."

"I will trade news with you, my friend," Legolas said following the older Elf to his chambers and bath. Their laughter could be heard all over the house.

**********Late that night ...

"You are most quiet."

"I am. You are not exactly filled with mirth yourself."

It was quiet a moment.

"You said that it would take the shores of heaven to learn your heart."

"Perchance."

"Erestor ... I know you carnally. I know your history. I know your likes and dislikes. I know where your ticklish places are  
and I know what irritates you. Why are you so reluctant to tell me what it is that ails you?"

It was quiet a moment.

"Because I know it irritates *you*, my beautiful brother."

For a moment it was silent and then laughter, big masculine filled the chamber. It continued for a long time and then receded bringing silence once more to the room.

"*You* are the magnificent bastard, my dear Erestor. I am merely the pretender."

"I am not sure whether to thank you or not, Glorfindel but I am sure you are right."

The moon shone through the window and there was no longer much conversation for other things occupied them, things that felt better and less complicated than conversation and as the moon lingered in the heavens above so did Glorfindel linger in the complexities of the enigma beside him.

**********Morning ...

Glorfindel labored over a horse swiping with his brush dust and dirt from the silken flank of someone's steed. He was absorbed and didn't notice the presence of another, someone standing nearby watching him with a dark gaze. Turning, he paused matching smirk for smirk the relaxed demeanor of his lover. "Here we go again," he said, relaxing against the stall.

Erestor came forward pausing just before him, his eyes filled with mirth. "I see no stallion and mare fornicating for our viewing pleasure. In that, this moment is different."

"I suppose we could take care of that. After all, a stall is a good as a chair."

"Only you would think so."

Glorfindel smiled and reached through the stall slats tugging Erestor closer to him. They stood together their lips nearly touching as Glorfindel considered the beauty of his partner. "You look edible," he whispered seductively.

"You are incorrigible," Erestor sighed moving back from Glorfindel, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "I told you then and I tell you now. I am not your filly."

"You did. You are consistent that way, I noticed. But things have changed since those more golden and innocent times."  
Glorfindel smiled his eyes half-shuttered in lustful recollection. "I am the owner of your virginity."

"A lost moment for me, I assure you." Erestor smiled and turned walking to the door. He paused as Glorfindel cleared his throat. The languid Elf was leaning against the stall nodding to the empty one next to it. A questioning half smile, hopeful and heated graced his beautiful face and Erestor worked to quash the chuckle this brought to him. "In your dreams," he said with a smirk. Turning, he walked out leaving Glorfindel behind him.

Glorfindel sighed and turned to the horse who was staring back at him with dark eyes. He grinned at his charge and began to swipe his rump brushing cleanliness back into the dust-covered curve of his powerful flank. He chuckled and looked at the empty stall beside him, gazing at the door where Erestor had exited. "It is only a matter of time, my beautiful brother. Only a matter of time."

***********A short time later on a road in the Shire...

He heard a song drifting on the breeze dragging him from his book back to reality. Rising, he turned and stared listening harder, a broad smile of recognition spreading across his pretty face in great delight. Turning, running swiftly, he hurried to the road and the traveler he expected to see. Careening through the trees, he came up short on the road crossing his arms before him. The traveler, aware of his presence stopped and gazed at him, at his cross-appearing countenance and waited. "Your late," he said a disapproving look on his face.

It was all Gandalf could do not to chuckle.

=0= c2003/2010


End file.
